Perspective
by commandocucumber
Summary: A retelling of Mass Effect 3. John Shepard was no longer the Paragon Ashley remembered him to be. They had both moved on... until the war forced them back together.
1. Chapter 1

**So Vendetta received a rather lukewarm welcome. I'm going to stick to what I apparently know best: relatively quiet and introspective character pieces. This one's going to focus on Shepard and Ashley. I hope it doesn't retread too much old ground, but by the same token, the tired and cynical side isn't addressed enough. Not in most fics, nor in the game itself.**

* * *

_The camera's lens is static, showing the simple image of a man wearing a white military undershirt. His hair is unkempt, his gaze unfocussed as he stares slightly past the camera. His eyes are glazed over with a combination of exhaustion and something else. Reminiscence, perhaps? Worry? Fear? Whatever it is, the man's exhaustion is quite obviously more than physical. His face is clean, but his chin is unshaven; Alliance holding cells are rather sparse when it comes to personal grooming. His hair is also a dry, tousled mess, but his most glaring feature is the network of… wounds… on his face, if that's what one could call them. A spidery pattern glowing slightly orange, though that could be just a trick of the light. It appears that most of the damage has since healed, but the scars are present._

_The man is well-muscled, but lean. Many Alliance marines like to keep themselves looking like Oxen, but this one has the manner and honed physique of a winter wolf. A practiced hunter. He did not start that way. It was a transformation. It developed alongside his incredible story._

_A voice from behind the lens says, "Good morning, Commander Shepard. How are you feeling?"_

"_Same as yesterday." The man answers blankly. "Probably the same as I will tomorrow. You?"_

"_I am well, thank you."_

_The prisoner's eyes shift for a moment as he examines his interrogator. "You look it. How's the desk job treating you?"_

_Behind the camera, a throat is cleared, and papers are shuffled awkwardly. "I've come today to talk about your time with Cerberus. I'm hoping for a little more cooperation from you today."_

"_First things first, what have you done with my Hamster?" the prisoner asks in a bored tone._

_Behind the camera, the interrogator makes a frustrated noise. "We haven't been able to locate it yet. My apologies, Commander, but I would like to focus on other things.."_

"_I thought my rank had been revoked."_

"_It has." The voice admits cautiously. "May I call you John?"_

"_No. the people who earned that right didn't do it sitting behind a desk." The prisoner practically spits the last word. His face is filled with anger and bitterness. He continues, "I have a last name. Use it. Everyone else does. As for my time with Cerberus…"_

"_We would like to hear about your crew members again."_

"_I gave you my reports."_

"_Your reports tell us very little, Mister Shepard. You've redacted all the names."_

"_I did not redact a thing."_

"_Before you presented us with your reports, You replaced all the crew names in all of them with 'Qwib-Qwib'."_

_A smile appears for a moment, lingering on the edge of the prisoner's stoic face. "Still a name. They still tell you all they need to."_

"_I disagree, Commander. I've read all of them. But we've heard from various sources that one or two members of your crew were quite close to the terrorist leader known as The Illusive Man."_

_The prisoner's face twitches. For a fraction of a second, worry appears. But he suppresses it. "Really?"_

"_You are aware that by not giving those names to the Proper Alliance Authorities, you are at risk of being tried of aiding and abetting terrorists."_

"_I'd take it over aiding and abetting lazy idiots." He shoots back quietly. "I am not going to give up the people who were loyal to _me_!"_

_The voice sighs. "I fear that that attitude is not going to get you very much sympathy during the tribunal, Commander."_

"_It's just Shepard, and you have more to fear than that."_

"_Was that a threat, Shepard?"_

"_No threat. Simple fact. Ask the block-headed bureaucrats who ordered you in here. Ask them what I mean. I guarantee they all know. They just aren't telling you. I guess it's easier to let you die. At least the Illusive Man was honest with his people."_

"_We aren't the enemy, commander."_

_The prisoner snorts dryly and stares at the floor. "And neither is Cerberus. Have you ever heard of Reapers? How much did you read of my report?"_

"_All I could." The voice pauses, then admits, "Large sections had been redacted."_

_The prisoner shrugs lightly. "Well then, Doctor, I guess you don't have the necessary security clearance to decide whether or not I deserve a clean psych evaluation."_

_This declaration is followed by a long silence. Eventually, more papers are shuffled. When next the interrogator speaks, it is in a tone of annoyance, and immense satisfaction. "In that case it is my most sincere pleasure to inform you that we found a name, Commander."_

_Another flash of emotion from the prisoner: fear, this time. He suppresses it easily, another habit formed through daily practice. "Joker cracked?"_

"_Sadly, no." the voice informs him. "Flight-Lieutenant Moreau has been as… uncooperative as you have. We would have liked to move him to a more suitable facility-" At this announcement, the prisoner glances sardonically around the sterile white room. "-but it appears that your Cerberus frigate's VI will only respond to his commands, and his alone." The voice pauses for a moment. "Very advanced security for an organization with as limited resources as Cerberus has."_

"_If only you knew." The prisoner says, looking relieved, and somewhat amused. "So if not Joker, then whom, exactly?"_

"_Vadim Rolston. Identified via DNA samples left on his bunk. He was picked up in San Francisco two days ago. An advertisement for hair-care products identified him as a wanted man, and notified us automatically."_

_The prisoner rubs his face, his exhaustion appearing to increase ten-fold. "Where… where was he… ? What was he doing when you picked him up?"_

"_He was in a shopping centre with a young girl. Don't worry, Commander Shepard. She has been safely returned to her mother. The Cerberus agent had not harmed her at all."_

"_Because she's his daughter, you… you stupid Varren-fuckers!" the prisoner's voice is strained with frustration. _

"_We were… aware. But we couldn't have a Cerberus agent wandering freely through the civilian population. We have to put the safety of our law-abiding citizens above the rights of terrorists." _

"_You and your fucking system. You couldn't even give him a weekend of peace, could you? Everyone should have that now."_

"_We have to catch these terrorists, Shepard. You've been closer to their leader than anyone the Alliance knows. Your knowledge could be invaluable to taking them down. That is, if you aren't one of them."_

_The Prisoner completely ignores the thinly-veiled probe. He seems far more affected by the news of Rolston's capture. "Why do you keep taking people away from their families? Everyone deserves to be with their families these days. Do you have a family, Doc?"_

"_I'm… not entirely comfortable giving up that information to you. My apologies, Shepard."_

"_And yet it's fine destroying Rolston's family again? You're a hypocrite. The entire Alliance is full of them!"_

"_A lot of the Batarians you blew up in the Bahak Relay Incident had families, as well, Shepard. How do you feel about that?"_

"_It was necessary. The Reapers are coming! They'll destroy everything!"_

"_Calm yourself, Commander Shepard!"_

"_If you have a family, you should go home and hold them close."_

"_My place is here."_

"_You'll be singing a different tune later on. I promise you that. I had a family. Twice. This is the second time that has been stolen from me, and this time my own side are the culprits. I'm not angry at you. I don't hate the Alliance any more than I hate Cerberus. I just want my ship back. Or to be a civilian. One of those two things." He settles on the table, his head in his hands, elbows resting on the cold, sterile metal surface. "Either reinstate me and let me keep fighting, or let me go. Please, Doc. I beg you. I just want…" he slowly shakes his head, his tone beaten and devoid of hope. "But that's not going to happen. The rules tell you what to do, don't they? And they say I'm going to be here till the Reapers kill us all. Just leave, doc. Please. I want to be alone. Just leave me alone."_

"_I'm afraid I have to finish this interview, Commander Shepard."_

_He looks up, straight at the unseen interrogator. The prisoner's expression is full of sudden, wild frustration. "What interview? Why? There's only one piece of information you need: The Reapers are coming! Why is no one listening?! I want to talk to Anderson! I want to talk to Hackett! You have to get people moving! Armed! We don't have time to piss around anymore!" he starts shouting at the camera. "I know you're all watching this! Get us ready for fuck's sake! Get us ready! The Reapers are coming! Listen to Cerberus! The Reapers are coming!" He keeps shouting those four words, even as guards move in from behind the camera. The prisoner keeps shouting and struggling, eventually knocking the camera over with a well-placed kick. The image shows the guards slam him into the table, holding him down until another figure manages to fasten his restraints and apply the sedative._

_As the chemical sleeping agent is injected, the feed pauses._

In an apartment in Vancouver, Lieutenant Ashley Williams lowered her omni-tool, staring at the image of John's stricken face. the video had a time stamp, showing it was taken five and a half months ago. She turned away and glanced through her temporary apartment's glass window. It provided a stunning view of the Vancouver skyline, and her eyes focused on the Alliance headquarters just across the bay, where she knew John Shepard was being held. There were hints of him in that video, at the start at least. Ghostly echoes, but not enough to convince her. Not by a long shot.

The interrogator was a psychologist, and foremost expert on Cerberus agents, not to mention one of the Alliance's gentlest interrogators. He was one of the best. The Alliance had always brought in the best for Shepard. They always had. Even after her fifth time viewing it, it still amazed Ashley how ungrateful for that he always appeared in that recording. He appeared a different man, both emotionally and physically. And those scars! Ashley hated them. John Shepard was a handsome man, but his wounds made him look like inhuman. Like an orange husk. They were far smaller than they had been on horizon, much of it having been covered over by a network of thin scar tissue, and his eyes were back to their normal grey/blue color. She couldn't help but think of how he had looked on horizon; the orange scars glowing brightly, the robotic implants in his eyes making it nearly impossible to read him as she had been able to do so many times before.

He had sounded so normal then, in complete contrast to the way he looked. He had spoken, so much like John Shepard that the difference between sound and visual was a bizarre and jarring thing.

And now the tables had turned. Beyond the apparent exhaustion, he looked more like John Shepard than he had in any reports after the collectors had taken the Normandy. But he sounded different. His voice, when he wasn't screaming at the camera, had adopted a flat, aloof drone. It was so unlike him. She remembered the days when he was a joyful being, talking to her in the cargo bay and cracking those awful jokes… and now?

Now there was this thin…

This decrepit… thing.

This husk. The word crept into her mind and stayed there, despite all of her best attempts to dislodge it. The prisoner in the videos was a savage mockery. John would not side with Cerberus. He wouldn't care about their agents. He would be standing proudly with the Alliance, working to take them down! And so would Joker! Why wasn't Joker cooperating? What had Cerberus done to them? They should have all stood together: Commander Shepard, leading the new Normandy at the head of an alliance fleet, taking down the Reapers! He'd be clean-shaven, with his hair cropped exactly the way it used to be. Joker would be at the helm, and Ashley, at the Skipper's side, ready to kick some ass, alongside Garrus and Tali and Wrex and Liara, and the first Reaper they took down would be in Kaidan's honor.

Except that the prisoner in the video was not John Shepard. Not the man she had shared so much with the night before Ilos. He had changed, and she saddened by the knowledge that whatever god's plan was, the Reaper war would not go down the way she wanted it to.

* * *

**I've always wondered what Shepard would be like in the weeks after handing in the Normandy back to the Alliance.**

**P.S. Citadel = Bioware redeemed. That game now has a complete ending. The EC wraps up the Reapers, and Citadel handles all the important stuff.**


	2. Chapter 2

Perspective 2

Something in Ashley rebelled against the cold modern styles which decorated so many homes and apartments in cities on the well-off planets. She had spent the first few years of her life in a cramped colonial housing unit on Sirona, until her father was reassigned to a base on one of Jupiter's moons. Then it had been a cramped eleventh floor condominium in Toronto. Then she had been thrust out into the colony world in the Hades Gamma cluster. After that she had joined the Alliance and somewhere along the line, lost count of everywhere she'd been.

But no matter where she was, Home was always a place full of and noise and the smells of cooking food. The tables were clean but not polished, the beds rumpled, and there was always a small amount of dust in the corners of the room. Home was by no means a dirty place, but it was meant to be _lived in_. But this sterile silent apartment the Alliance had given her was something different. With its perfectly folded sheets, brushed spotless counters, and bland artwork, this apartment was nothing more than a place to wait, and she did not have to wait long. Today was exactly one week from John's trial, and she felt on edge. She had woken up that morning and realized that suddenly the trial wasn't a dark cloud looming on a distant horizon anymore, but an immediate issue. She would be asked to testify, she knew. There was no way they wouldn't force the two of them into the same room. She had not visited him at all while he was in lockdown. She couldn't bring herself to witness what Cerberus had turned him into. Watching the videos was hard enough, and something in her blanched at the thought of seeing it in person.

Ashley was halfway through her breakfast when Admiral Anderson came to call. She was shocked; sometime in the near future, she had expected an alliance rep of some sort to brief her, but she hadn't expected Shepard's mentor. The man who had first welcomed her aboard the Normandy. The former captain-turned-councilor member looked haggard and grim as he maintained a stiff, official air. He was a bulky man, larger than Shepard. And in his youth he must have been an imposing figure when seen at the wrong end of a weapon. But now? Age had taken its toll. He was still strong, but muscle had been replaced and worn down by the citadel's excellent food. His years as Council member had not been kind to him.

"Commander Williams." He greeted.

Ashley reflexively drew herself into a salute. "Sir."

"Hmmm…" the captain hesitated a moment as if unpleasantly surprised at the action, then he returned it. "May I come in."

"Of course, sir." Ashley moved aside and allowed him to enter.

The man took a few steps inside and looked around the spacious living area. As if trying to ward off an unpleasant topic, he said, "This is a nice place, Williams."

"The Alliance looks after its own, sir."

"That it does." Anderson's frown deepened. "Most of us, anyway."

"Sir." Ashley said in a neutral tone.

He turned. "Williams, something has happened, and I need to ask you a very important question."

"Is this related to the Skip- to Shepard's trial, sir?" Ashley felt panic grip her as she pondered what he could have meant. Had the Alliance found out about her surreptitious relationship with Shepard? Fraternization_ was_ against regulations, after all. Was she in trouble? Had Shepard said something?

"Williams, this morning a few scouting ships in the Asgard system stopped reporting in." Anderson softly informed her. He reached out with one enormous hand and shut the door to her apartment.

Now it was Ashley's turn to frown. Were they shipping her out again? A week before Shepard's trial? Her own experiences would be invaluable to determining his loyalties. How could they hold it without her in attendance?

Anderson let out a heavy breath. "…Williams, the council always believed Shepard had been tricked by Saren. They don't believe in the Reapers. I've questioned it myself on many occasions. I myself didn't want to believe it, but…" As he activated his omnitool, Ashley felt ice slither down her spine. The air seemed to freeze in her lungs and a great weight seemed to press in on her, causing her to slump, stunned.

_NO! _She thought, a deep terror gripping her soul. All her fears and worries about the trial vanished, to be replaced by something far worse. _Please god no! Not them! Let them have been a myth! Let Shepard have been duped! John was tricked! John was tricked! John was tricked! I was tricked! They don't exist!_

"You believe, then?" he asked carefully, studying her reaction. He held out his omnitool. "This was the last image we received from the scouting vessels."

_They don't exist! This can't be happening! This isn't happening! This isn't happening! This isn't happening! This isn't happening! This isn't happening! This isn't happening! This isn't happening! This isn't happening! This isn't happening! This isn't… can't… isn't…._

But there was no denying the picture Anderson was holding out in front of her. The alien curves, the dark coloring, those horrible appendages dangling behind the armoured exoskeleton like some demonic cyclopean crustacean. The image showed thousands of the enormous monsters, flowing from the black Abyss beyond the galaxy's rim, bearing down on the helpless ships.

They had arrived. The shock hit her with all the weight of an angry Krogan, and her knees went weak. She reached out a hand and pressed it against the wall to steady herself. She felt on the verge of vomiting, and fought to keep herself under control.

Ashley could not honestly justify why she had put aside the Reaper threat. How she had somehow allowed the dull, humdrum of everyday life to take precedence over what she knew, and what she had seen.

Perhaps she had never truly believed in the first place. Perhaps she had faith that God would not allow something like them to exist. Perhaps it had ended with Shepard. Somehow in her mind, he was connected to the reapers, and they to him. The day he had died, Ashley had been forced to close that chapter of her life. Perhaps the Reaper threat had been left there with her memories of him. They were connected, and remembering him, as much joy as that had brought her, meant remembering them as well. Perhaps she hadn't wanted that.

Perhaps it was all of the above, and a little more.

"I've already sent word to Admiral Hackett." Anderson's voice was grim as he closed the image. "We're keeping things under wraps until we've confirmed it beyond any doubt. An emergency war tribunal is being assembled across the bay. You're going to be there. You fought along with Shepard and the Turian. You three faced Saren and Sovereign. Right now, according to the tribunal, you're our most reliable source of intel."

Ashley stared, still trying to overcome her feelings. She grimaced and pulled herself together. "Yes sir."

"I have a skycar parked at the apartment entrance. Be there in ten minutes." Anderson ordered. "Full kit. Make yourself presentable!"

"Yes sir."

"And… Williams?" he laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Stay calm. This can be won."

"Do you honestly believe that, sir?" she asked quietly, trying not to tremble.

Anderson chewed his lip thoughtfully. "I believe that giving up before we start is not going to help."

* * *

"We've looked over John Shepard's reports, Commander Williams." The female admiral said, leaning over her enormous desk to look down at Ashley. "He appears to feel that these are some sort of… doomsday machines. Would you care to elaborate?"

"I… They are, Admiral." Ashley confirmed, feeling very small. The room was designed like a cathedral, with the Tribunal's enormous communal desk at the far end in front of a set of enormous bay windows. The desk formed a semi-circle around a small central area where anyone being interrogated was to stand. Smaller desks and monitoring stations lined both side walls, manned by dozens of clerks, all of whom seemed to be in constant motion. "The Skipper felt that-"

"I'm sorry, the Skipper?" an admiral on her left interrupted.

"Commander Shepard, I mean…" Ashley blurted out awkwardly.

"His rank had been revoked." The naval officer admonished, his voice severe. "He was dishonorably discharged and held for ques-"

"It doesn't matter." The female cut him off. "Commander Williams, tell us about the Reapers. As much as you know. Your tactical analysis."

"Well… Sovereign was one of them, and… look we are in a lot of trouble right now."

"What can you tell us about their construction? What are they made of?"

"I… don't really know." Ashley admitted.

"Well…" the woman tried again. "What are their tactics? How do they make war?"

"I…don't know that either. I'm sorry, Ma'am. Sovereign mostly operated through Saren and the Geth. I know how the Geth fight." Ashley paused a moment. "But I'm not sure it is war to them. More like extermination."

The councilmembers exchanged glances.

"Williams," the woman said, putting her hands together thoughtfully, "You were stationed on Horizon. According to Commander Shepard's reports-"

"Unreliable reports." One of the other admirals interrupted.

A few nods of agreement passed through the crowd, but the woman persisted. "According to his reports, the race known as the Collectors are the only species we have ever encountered who were directly under Reaper control."

"He also claims they were former Protheans!" the argumentative one laughed. "He is not a reliable source."

Despite herself, Ashley felt a small amount of loyalty spark for her former lover. She said, "I Don't know about the Protheans, but he could well be right about the Collectors being under control of the Reapers."

"There. See?" the female admiral leaned forward eagerly. "And how did they fight? How did they operate."

"I… don't really know, Ma'am." Ashley was once again forced to admit, red-faced. "I was frozen by a swarm of their bugs before I had a chance to engage the enemy in open combat."

"Thank you, Commander. You've been very helpful." The admiral sat back, looking disappointed, and Ashley felt a surge of frustration. She hated not being able to give the Admirals any useful intelligence. Ashley had no idea how bad it would get, except that Sovereign by itself had destroyed eight alliance warships. The Alliance was going into the fight completely blind.

Despite her personal feelings about him, she hoped John would be able to give them some answers. Maybe instead of working with Cerberus, he could finally turn his attention towards savinglives.

"Dismissed, Commander Williams." Came the harsh order. Feeling hollow, she saluted and left without another word.

* * *

**I'm debating whether or not to include Shepard's POV. I'm not sure I want this to turn into a full novelization, and if I include his perspective, it might. But by the same token, being able to see and hear things through his eyes would add a hell of a lot more to their conflict (for lack of a better word), and the bigger picture of the war. I'm just not keen on writing out all those missions…. I have enough action scenes incoming just from Fallout by itself.**

**I could use your guys' thoughts on this. It's partly why I cut the chapter so short.**


	3. Chapter 3

Perspective 3

The long elevator ride ranked among the most awkward in Ashley's life, and that was saying something. She smiled slightly as she remembered trying to make pleasant conversation with Kaidan and Shepard on the way up to the council chambers. Kaidan, of course, had been the strict, level-headed professional. The skipper? He had been trying desperately to suppress a smile at the ridiculousness of the entire situation.

Oh, how she missed both of them. Garrus as well. All the squad, really. Her current companions were two silent rifle-toting marines, there to escort her from the council chambers down to the security station, presumably into Anderson's care. Neither soldier looked like they were any good at talking. This was another day at the office for them. She wondered whether or not they knew about the Reapers. How many people would be told? There was no point in worrying civilians, but the Alliance couldn't keep their preparations under wraps forever. After Bahak, the Batarians were edgy enough as it was. Seeing the Alliance arming could very well start another war. To prepare in secret would be another challenge considering how many years it took to build viable warships. The Dreadnought program, for instance, had been in production for three and a half years and they only just finished rebuilding what the Alliance had lost during the battle of the citadel. Spaceships were expensive, as was secrecy. Now it looked as though they had only a matter of months…

God… was it really so soon?

The elevator smoothly descended to a halt, and the door slid open to reveal the security station. The courtroom access foyer was a T-intersection. Anyone entering was forced through multiple security checkpoints before finally arriving at the front desk, at which point they could either take a right to get to the elevator, or left into the Alliance offices. The walls were painted with standard Alliance blue. The enormous logo had been mounted on the wall behind the front desk, making it clear to all who stood there exactly they were. It was an officiously bureaucratic arrangement, but the authoritative atmosphere was something Ashley could appreciate, considering what she had just learned. She felt strong, standing in that building. That logo represented the best Humanity had to offer, and under its banner she felt ready to meet any challenge. She rounded the corner, and was immediately waylaid by the very man who had broken the news to her in the first place.

"Anderson." She greeted, intrigued by the unusual numbers of Alliance personnel gathered in the security hallway. A team of fully-armoured marines were standing in a loose circle around two men. The marine's rifles were not raised, but they certainly looked on edge. She turned her attention to the men they were escorting, one of whom had snapped around to face her the moment she had greeted the Admiral. Her jaw dropped. "Shepard!"

Her former lover was looking… better. Much healthier than he had in the interrogation vids. During their time chasing Saren, Shepard had kept his head nearly shaven in the convenient military style. It was longer, now. Messy, but in a fashionable way. Walking down the street he could have been mistaken for a civilian, and for a moment she wondered if it had always been that color.

Shepard's face was grim, but well colored and well groomed. Clearly his living accommodations had been altered since the interrogation. Stress lines had left indelible around his eyes and his mouth was set in a tight, thin, semi-permanent line. Those horrible scars had nearly faded, only recognizable through a network of nearly invisible white lines around his eyebrows. He looked far less like the husk they had dragged off the Normandy. The man standing in front of her almost looked like… like Shepard.

His grey/blue eyes narrowed, and she realized he was giving her the same examination she was in the middle of giving him. She scratched her neck self-consciously, aware that he had never actually seen her with her hair down, nor with any makeup on. Years ago, she would have hoped he'd be impressed and perhaps a little titillated. After all, she did not do it very often. His expression now, however, was one of utter bewilderment. His confusion was obvious enough, considering the reason they were both standing there.

The reapers were coming, and Ashley? Ashley had done her hair!

"Chief…" he greeted in what was _definitely_ his own voice. He sounded surprised.

"Lieutenant-Commander? How'd it go in there?" Anderson asked.

Ashley momentarily tore her eyes away from Shepard. "I can never tell with them. Just waiting for orders now." she was horrible aware of Shepard, who was striding towards them across the security checkpoint, completely ignoring the way his marine escort tensed at his movements.

"Lieutenant-Commander?" He inquired, halting at Anderson's shoulder.

"You hadn't heard?" Anderson asked as Shepard's gaze swept her uniform, looking for the triple-bar insignia.

"No." he said, his voice and eyes judging her in a thousand different ways, all of them bad. "I hadn't."

"I'm sorry, Skipper…" she murmured, feeling more and more uncomfortable with the entire situation. "It's been…" she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "well…"

Her promotion had been one of the proudest moment of her life. Ashley had missed him at the Promotion ceremony, though after seeing the husk-like figure in the interrogation videos, she had never once considered offering an invitation. He seemed far more human now, but not necessarily friendly to her, nor to the Alliance. On the few times his eyes left hers, he'd glare up scornfully at the Alliance logo.

Now that she thought about it, they had not visited at all. No messages had been sent in either direction since her apology for their fight on Horizon. That had been… eighteen months ago? More? Her problem was not that Shepard appeared upset. She would have expected that. He seemed aware of it, but… indifferent. Instead of angry at her, which is what she would have expected from him, he more seemed irritated and confused by her presence, though she was damned if she could understand why _that _was. She had a right to be there! This meeting was about the Reapers, and she had been there fighting Saren every bit as hard as he had!

Shepard's lips curled into a disdainful smile. "They're here, Chief." He started past her, not giving her a second glance. As he headed for the elevator, he called out: "You ready?"

Caught without any retort, Ashley was forced with angry silence to watch his back as he strode towards the elevator. His Marine escort brushed past her to follow him, as did Anderson.

"Wait around a little while, Chief. You might be called in again." The Admiral instructed, before jogging to catch up with Shepard.

"You know the commander?" A soft voice asked as Shepard stepped into the elevator.

"Used to." She murmured.

The marine speaking to her was extremely well-muscled and heavily tattooed. He had been talking to Shepard before Ashley had arrived, and he was obviously acting as the Commander's personal escort, as opposed to the Alliance's security squad.

"James Vega." He thrust out a confidant hand. The man was enormous. She would have mistaken him for a Krogan in poor light. His bicep alone was the size of her head, not that she was particularly intimidated. After all, she had traveled the galaxy with Urdnot Wrex.

"Ashley Williams." She shook his hand, meeting his firm grip with one of her own. "You're his… guard?"

"Personal escort. Assigned by Admiral Hackett himself. I've been taking care of Commander Shepard."

"You still call him 'Commander'?"

"Anderson does." Vega replied. "Besides, I respect him. He's been through a lot. More than me, and that's saying something."

"Really?" Ashley tried not to sound skeptical.

"Fehl Prime." The younger marine leaned back and crossed his arms confidently. "I was sent there to rescue the colony from an attack by the Blood pack. Later helped with the Collectors…" his face fell. "At least… I tried."

"I was stationed on Horizon during a Collector attack." Ashley told him sympathetically. "It didn't end well either."

"Yeah…" he said awkwardly. They fell into silence and were forced to move aside to let through a stream of flustered Alliance officials. "I wonder what's going on." He said. "This meeting's gotta be important."

"It is." She told him fervently. "Not sure if I'm allowed to say why."

Vega nodded understandingly. After a moment, he said, "The Commander's not what I expected."

"Why?"

"I figured…I dunno." James shrugged. "I mean… he's got a lot of downtime, but all he does is browse the extranet for strange news stories."

Ashley frowned. "What kind?"

"I didn't take him for a conspiracy nut. I mean, I know he was with Cerberus, but-" the young marine was interrupted by yet more agitated Alliance officials, chattering loudly to one another.

"Come with me." Ashley grabbed his hand and lead him through the security gates into the offices wing. She had been in the facility during her promotion ceremony and still remembered where the cafeteria was; two rights, end of the hall, and take the stairwell down a floor.

The cafeteria was a pleasant space with wide open windows looking out across the bay. Ashley could see he apartment, or at least the building she knew it in. The sun was near its peak, causing the water to sparkle merrily all the way out to the distant ocean horizon.

The cafeteria itself was fairly busy. More than a few of the Alliance paper-pushers were taking their lunches. Ashley herself was not hungry, and Vega didn't appear to be either, but they found a secluded table near the large windows and sat down to continue their conversation.

"I can't believe they gave him extranet access." She said. "He's a prisoner on trial. A Cerberus prisoner."

"Well it was only inbound." Vega replied fairly. "He couldn't' send messages or anything. Besides, his browsing history was all being monitored."

"What was he looking up?"

"News stories. A lot of Cerberus stuff, yeah. But crazier stuff too… strange sightings. Ships and things." Vega told her. "I always figured he was looking out for more Geth. Or Collectors." He paused. "Or worse."

"Worse?" Ashley asked carefully.

Vega glanced sideways at the nearest table, but the patron seated there was fixated on a piece of pumpkin pie. Sure that he was in the clear, the young marine said, "Shepard kept telling me to leave. Find my family and stuff like that. He kept talking about doom machines called 'Reapers'. He sounded like a lunatic, to be honest."

"He's…Yeah…"

James tapped the table absentmindedly. "So… the two of you are…?"

"Were." Ashley corrected. She was normally very cautious about discussing her personal life with anyone involved in the Alliance, but somehow the young man didn't strike her as a snitch. "It's complicated."

"I bet." Vega frowned. "You didn't visit, though? It would've helped, I'm sure. Aside from me and Anderson, Shepard talked to no one. I got the feeling he was getting pretty lonely up there. Why didn't you at least send him a message."

"look, not that it's any of your business," Ashley snapped, feeling annoyed, "But John Shepard, the hero of Elysium? The man I knew? The man I loved, he died when the Collectors hit the Normandy. I don't know who you've been escorting around for the past few months, but I not sure its him."

"You don't trust him?" Vega asked curiously.

Ashley was about to answer him, but hesitated. She could hear screaming and the unmistakable muffle thump of a distant explosion. Outside the cafeteria window, the sky which before had been a pleasant, cloudless blue, was frothing and boiling with dark angry clouds, blotting out the sun. Ashley rose to her feet and walked to the window, squinting at the strange morass. A horrible sensation began to spread through her gut. Vega joined her, as did a few of the other Alliance personnel, pointing and murmuring to one another. More clouds were forming across the city's skyline. First one more, then three, then five, all frothing and coiling ominously.

"What's going on?" Vega asked, staring at the clouds. They were all momentarily blinded by a horribly familiar red beam of energy which lanced through the center of the sudden storm, disappearing into the cluster of skyscrapers across the bay. The same cluster Ashley's apartment was housed in. More muffled explosions sounded and to her horror, one of the enormous buildings collapsed into a pile of rubble. She could see the distant shapes of civilians running from the carnage. The constant streams of hover car traffic halted, or began to fly wildly from the epicenter, like fish from a startling noise. And with a deafening sound which blew out windows, rattled skulls and crushed the hopes of all who heard it, the Reapers landed.

* * *

**Not sure whether or not James knew about the Reapers. Doesn't really matter. **


	4. Chapter 4

Perspective 4

Later, Ashley had a very hard time piecing together the opening moments of the Reaper invasion. The shock, fear and panic had splintered her sense of passing time, leaving the memories strangely fragmented. She recalled small moments: a child, crying in the door of a ruined building; civilian bodies, trampled by a fleeing crowd; more civilians running from a horde of husks, being cut down by the Reaper at the far end of the street.

There was something surreal about watching the enormous synthetic army march through the heart of downtown Vancouver, crumbling buildings and obliterating the Alliance's slapdash defenses. It was a pathetic slaughter, both in the air and at street level. They were called reapers for a reason, and every time their husks swept a street, they left behind piles of corpses, and the broken remains of one of earth's proudest cities.

Ashley had acquired a weapon somewhere. Whether it had been given to her by an Alliance marine, or she had taken it from the body of a dead security officer, she couldn't remember. The important part was that it was in her hands. An Avenger assault rifle. Just what the doctor ordered.

Vega did not have a weapon, but the young man didn't seem to need one. She had never seen a human being approach a combat state close to the Krogan's bloodlust, but Vega had managed it somehow. The man had taken one look at the husks beating down innocent civilians, and began to tear them apart with his own bear hands. He would pick them up and slam them into walls, snap their necks, or beat them with sticks or rocks or whatever piece of wreckage was near his hands at the time. He didn't know what they were, and had no concept of just what their masters were either. In mind, body and soul, he had defaulted to protecting civilians at any cost. If Ashley hadn't been there to exert some control and direction, the young man would have been dead in a matter of minutes.

As she fought, a feeling began to creep through her muddled mind. It was an old thought, left over from her days chasing Saren. But in the midst of the chaotic destruction, it was something to cling to, and a goal to work towards, and Ashley desperately needed both.

_Get to the Normandy, beat the Reapers! _

The thought overtook her. Any part of her mind which wasn't processing combat data was repeating it over and over and over again. And the Normandy was stationed at the far end of the Alliance compound. She had seen it every day from her apartment building, stared at it over bowls of cereal. It had been in dry dock for six months, being retrofitted as the Alliance wiped all traces of Cerberus from it, inside and out.

She contacted Anderson first and informed him of her plan. He seemed to approve, being more interested in getting Shepard on board. The council chamber had been hit by a Reaper's beam, and he was busy trawling through the wreckage. The Alliance facility itself was a rapidly collapsing structure. Three Reapers had landed nearby and their beams, when they weren't targeting escaping ships and loose clusters of fleeing civilians, were cutting the resistance's headquarters to shreds. Cutting straight through the structure was too risky; Ashley was not going to die of starvation, trapped in the air pocket of a ruined building, only able to listen to the carnage outside! She refused to die before the war had truly started! She lead Vega round the outside of the building, fully aware of a smaller Reaper unit one block away, hidden from view by clusters of buildings. Though like a shark's fin breaking the surface of the water, the elongated body of the Reaper rose above the buildings, bobbing in time to its movements. As Ashley ducked from doorway to doorway, cutting down husks and fighting the flow of panicking civilians, she couldn't help but notice that the enormous Reaper appeared to be following the same path.

After what may have been a few seconds, or an eternity, she reached the end of the street, and peeked around the corner to her right, coming into full view of the Normandy. The ship was still in dry dock, several stories above her head, silhouetted against the crumbling skyline of Vancouver. It sat there, motionless, silent, and horribly exposed.

Perhaps it was her imagination, but the blaring noise the Reaper destroyer emitted as it turned the corner to her left was almost triumphant. With a sudden shock, Ashley realized that she was standing on the street corner, completely and utterly exposed to it. Even from a block away it towered over her head, but it seemed to be ignoring her completely, and with a sinking feeling she realized that it was targeting the Normandy.

She turned back to the inert ship and began screaming at it hysterically, waving her arms above her head, willing it to move. Yet the docking clamps were still attached, and the Reaper was charging its beam.

The Destroyer fired, the thick red energy cutting a swath of destruction up the street towards the vulnerable ship. It was halfway to its target when the Normandy's engines suddenly came online. The ship sprang forward, tearing away from the docking clamps holding it in place, and shooting straight towards the Reaper. It was less than fifty meters away from an imminent crash before it suddenly flitted upwards like a swallow, vanishing into the broiling sky.

Ashley threw her hands in the air, overcome with relief. Her ears were ringing from the noise and her eyes tearing up from the sudden wind which had nearly knocked her to the pavement. But she was overjoyed nonetheless.

"Williams!" James shouted a warning from a few meters behind her. The Reaper, having lost its original target, had turned its attention to the only other visible target: the oblivious alliance soldier, standing on the street corner. Once again its beam cut a burning hole in the street, this time chasing her back into the shadow of the Alliance headquarters. She burst through a ruined doorway and took a hard right turn, feeling the heat of the beam as it burned the path behind her, missing her by metres. James appeared a few moments later, vaulting over a windowsill. He crouched beside her and took a long breath, examining the desolate offices in which they had taken shelter. Broken glass covered the floor, along with papers and tablets. It was deserted, aside from a few corpses. He said, "This is Loco!"

"No kidding!" Ashley reached up to her headset and tried her radio. She had to get to the Normandy. That was key to everything. Get to the Normandy, beat the Reapers. Outside the window, the Reaper marched past, appearing to have given up on its targets. It had plenty more to choose from, after all. "S.S.V. Normandy, this is Commander Ashley Williams. We're stranded at Alliance HQ! Requesting Evac."

"Are you insane?" Vega stared at her. "Comms have got to be going crazy right now! What the hell's-"

Ashley held up a hand as the static in her earpiece slowly morphed into a discernible voice. Feminine and authoritarian. "_Commander Williams, this is the Normandy. Flight Lieutenant Jeffery Moreau would like to say-_" the voice cut out to be replaced by yet another, far more familiar and at that moment, infinitely more welcome. "_Ash! Ash, that you?_"

"Joker!" Ashley grinned at Vega's astonished expression. "How'd you pick up my signal?"

"_Had some help cutting through the muck. Long story! Be happy you got through at all. You'd think people asking for help'd be getting a busy signal. It's only the Reaper invasion, after all…_"

"We need a pickup, Joker!"

"_Yeah yeah yeah. I'm working on it. What was that, EDI?_" Joker's voice paused; he was obviously speaking to someone on his end of the line. "_Ash, there's a sky port on the far end of the bay. If you can get there, we'll pick you up. Keep your Comm tuned in so we can locate you._"

"Roger that." Ashley said grimly. She looked up at Vega. "We need a skycar."

"Are you crazy? Those monsters are knocking everything that moves out of the sky right now!"

Ashley ignored him, peeking carefully over the edge of the windowsill. The Reaper had moved on down the street, leaving enormous craters where its clawed appendages had bitten into the pavement. There were plenty of abandoned sky cars scattered across the street, but the majority had been destroyed by gunfire, or the Reaper's recent trip.

"Vega, you ever stolen a sky car?" she asked, glancing through the window of the nearest intact vehicle. Most skycars were keyed to Omnitool codes, or DNA signatures. They couldn't be activated without the proper security code, and she wouldn't know where to start.

"Sure." James offered. "Remind me one day to tell you about my time in San Diego." He grabbed Ashley's rifle for a moment and used it to blow out the window. Then he handed it back. In the distance, Ashley could hear the sounds of gunfire and screaming. She crouched beside the car, rifle at the ready.

"Gonna be a few minutes, Williams." The bulky man reported, tearing out a panel and examining the wire beneath it.

"Roger that." She replied.

A full minute passed relatively peacefully, only two husks had attacked them. But Ashley kept her guard up, paying special attention to the smaller reaper, which had moved down the street behind them. She was just beginning to relax a little when an enormous flaming meteor cut past her and crushed a building at the end of the street, raising a cloud of dust. A few seconds later, enemy fire poured out of the ruins, spattering across her shields and the hood of the skycar. She dove to shelter in one of the reaper footprints and sprayed a few rounds into the cloud of dust.

"The hells' going on?" James demanded.

"keep working!" Ashley ordered as three husks came charging out of the smoke. She cut them down easily enough, noting with some dismay that she was running out of thermal clips for her Avenger assault rifle. Half a dozen dark, bulbous monstrosities followed the husks, taking cover in craters and behind ruined skycars. Their faces looked vaguely Batarian, but they had as much in common with that race as husks did with human beings.

They were firing out of some sort of cannon, though whether it was attached to their arms or being carried was entirely unknown. All Ashley registered was that they were excessively ugly, and trying to kill her. She responded in kind, firing in five and six-round bursts. They fell easily enough, but she had to take cover more than once to let her shields recharge. Each time, the Reaper minions would move up a line of cover and rearrange themselves, making it more difficult for her to keep track of their numbers and movements.

"Almost done, Williams." Vega reported from somewhere behind her. "Keep'em occupied!"

Ashley obeyed, aiming and firing as best she could. Sometimes she was able to knock one of them out of the fight, other times it was simply bullets wasted on suppression alone. She felt thankful of those long missions with John, where she had learned how to fight superior numbers. Four healthy enemies were far easier to deal with than five slightly wounded ones. She concentrated on the vulnerable ones, and those trying to flank. It was difficult, as she also had the task of suppressing their firebase. She couldn't exactly win, but she wasn't losing either, and against the reapers, that counted for something.

"I'm done! Get in here!" the thrumming of working skycar engines confirmed Vega's story. Ashley swept the entire enemy line with high velocity rounds as she charged from cover and leapt towards the waiting skycar. She made it through the passenger-side window just as the Reaper firebase finished recovering, and their small arms fire chased it until it was out of view.

Ashley cursed at Vega; her legs had still been hanging out the window when he'd taken off, and it took her a moment to crawl inside the rest of the way and reorient herself. No sooner had she done so, then a miniature version of the Reaper beam sliced off the skycar's driver-side mirror.

"Joder!" Vega cursed in Spanish and plunged the small vehicle through a narrow street, weaving up and down and back and forth to avoid the sweeping beam. The passenger window had already been blow out in the groundside firefight. Ashley leaned out and let a few bursts off, trying to ward away their strange spherical attacker. The thing followed them as they rose higher into the air, heading towards the bay. The G-forces presed against Ashley and she fought to keep her grip on the skycar. Their attacker exploded without warning, destroyed by the human fighter which had zipped between them towards an Arial battle going on by Vancouver's downtown core. Ashley took a long breath, silently thanking god, and the anonymous pilot. She lowered herself back into the vehicle and sighed, stealing a few seconds of peace. James Vega seemed perfectly at ease, except that his knuckles gripping the steering wheel were ghostly white.

"There it is!" He said, pointing across the bay. The small skycar shot out over the open water, racing towards the distant shoreline. Ashley's heart sank as yet another Reaper descended from the heavens and landed right on top of the skyport, putting its beam to use on the escaping shuttles and the crowds of humans heading towards the docks. She reached up to her headset. "Joker, we need another plan. This is going to get a lot more difficult…"

"_Honestly, Ash. Where'd all your faith go?_" the pilot replied. At the same moment, a sudden thrumming and a rush of air made both Ashley and Vega jump, and their little skycar was swallowed up by the Normandy's cargo bay. The frigate had swooped down behind them, matched their speed and swept them up inside. It was the most impressive maneuver Ashley had seen to date, and that was saying something. The ramp closed, cutting off their view of Vancouver's flaming skyport.

"_It's almost like I'm _not_ the best pilot the Alliance has ever seen. It's very hurtful._" Joker reprimanded, putting the ship into a shallow climb.

"Damn!" James exclaimed, impressed.

"Where's Anderson?" Ashley demanded, opening the skycar's door. "We need to get to Anderson. He's got Shepard with him."

"_EDI's trying to fi- Oh shit!_" Joker's comm link turned to static and the ship lurched sideways, throwing Ashley out of her seat and onto to the cargo bay floor. The Skycar began to slid across the deck towards her.

"Williams!" Vega cried out another warning. Ashley rolled, pushing herself out of the way as the errant vehicle scraped by and slammed into the bulkhead. Ashley was very thankful that the Kodiak Drop ship on the far side of the bay had been secured with both magnetic and mechanical clamps.

"_Taking fire!_" Joker reported through the intercom as Ashley and Vega fought their way through the bouncing crates, towards the elevator. "_Lots and lots of fire!_ I_t's almost like they don't like us!_"

"_I cannot imagine why, Jeff._" That female voice responded. It sounded crisp, almost robotic. "_The Normandy destroyed Sovereign and the Collectors. It makes sense that this ship would be a priority target._"

"_Yeah? No kidding, EDI! God! Move, girl, move! We're too goddamned heavy!_"

The frigate shot up into the air again, and Ashley fell back against a half-circle of desks near the elevator. James was beside her, pulling her away as the skycar slid towards them in a strange kerking motion as the ship's artificial gravity fought the earth's homegrown gravity. The vehicle never made it close enough to do any damage, however, because for some hellish reason, Joker forced the protesting Normandy into a sudden nosedive, spinning as he went. James dived for the nearest desk. He gripped it with one hand, and held onto Ashley's ankle with the other. She had been unable to get a decent grip before the entire world had turned to chaos. Upside down, she watched as the skycar fell to the far side of the cargo bay, along with all the wreckage and loose crates. To her horror, the female voice came online again and said, "_Jettisoning loose cargo._"

"Wait!" she screamed, cursing the Pilot, the voice, the Reapers, the Normandy, that damned skycar, and life in general. The cargo ramp opened, giving Ashley a brief, breathless view of a rapidly approaching, gyrating ocean. The loose crates and the skycar fell towards the distant frothing waves, and then the door shut again and the ship righted itself.

"_Whew…_" Joker laughed. "_So, Ash,_ _I'm betting you're going to let your clothes air dry from now on, huh?_ _Instead of tossing'em in the tumble-dryer? Now you know how it feels…_"

"One day I'm going to kill you, Joker!" Ashley responded as she collapsed inside the elevator. James lay down on his stomach and kissed the floor.

"Loco…" he murmured. "Puta mierda! Es un pendejo loco!"

A few seconds later, the door to the CIC opened. Ignoring her aching joints, Ashley sprinted for the cockpit. Joker was sitting at the dashboard, hands flying across the buttons as if he were conducting a symphony.

"Hey, Ash!" he greeted cheerful as the Normandy twisted sideways at make the gap between two skyscrapers. "How's life?"

"Just shut up and fly!" she ordered, trying not to vomit. She strapped herself into the copilot's chair, trying desperately to ignore that bottomless feeling which cropped up every time another insane aerial maneuver was executed. A red beam lanced through the nearest building, trailing after the Normandy, and cutting the unfortunate structure in half. Ashley caught a brief glimpse of the hapless people trapped inside the falling superstructure, then Joker cleared the cluster of skyscrapers and threw the ship into a barrel roll, twisting the Normandy's path as he did so. Blue light flashed across the interior of the cockpit as the Normandy's cannons took out both of the spherical Reaper machines chasing it. The same type that had attacked Ashley and Vega in the skycar.

"If I'd stayed with the Alliance, I'd be on vacation right now." the Pilot lamented as he thrust the Normandy back into the reaper's deadly gauntlet. "Where the _hell_ is Shepard?"

Ashley's radio crackled to life again. This time it was Anderson on the line. "_Lieutenant-Commander Williams, we're in sight of the spaceport. ETA three minutes._"

"We've made it to the Normandy. Taking heavy fire." Ashley reported as they cleared the same cluster once again. This time, however, the Normandy was racing into the open area over the bay. The open space was being contested by a brand new Alliance Dreadnought, and the latest Reaper which had just landed. The human ship had already fired its heaviest cannons at the infernal machine. Ashley couldn't even see a scratch. The reaper's red eye opened and focused on the aggressive ship, as an elephant would on a determined cockroach.

"Oh god…" she said, only vaguely aware that her finger still on the comm link. "They're going to take down that dreadnought!" She pounded on Joker's shoulder. "Evasive Maneuvers!"

"No shit!" the pilot threw the Normandy into a tight U-turn, its wing clipping the side of a building, showering the street below with broken glass and twisted metal. A second later they heard the explosion, and a shockwave chased them into the upper atmosphere.

"Normandy, we're going to reroute. Do you copy?" Anderson's voice turned to static.

"We read you." Ashley reported back, but she got no response. "We gotta go back down there, Joker!"

"Hang on a second." The pilot slowed the ship down, resting it between the gutted hulks of two more Juggernauts; remnants of the Earth's defensive fleet. "I gotta let her cool down a little. Look at that!" He pointed at a blinking red light which looked to Ashley like every other blinking red light. "That's saying our engines are overheating. And we're running out of fuel already. Frigates weren't designed to fly in atmosphere, Ash."

"Certainly not the way you pilot them." She replied coolly.

"You're alive, aren't you?" the pilot argued, sitting back to rest his hands a moment. He took a long breath. "EDI, let me know if any reapers lock on to our position. And keep an eye out for Shepard."

"Of course, Jeff." Said that female voice.

"Who is that?" Ashley glanced around the cockpit. It sounded close at hand, but all she could see was electronic displays.

"Long story. I'll fill you in later." Joker murmured, rubbing his face. his armpits, and the neck of his shirt were coated in sweat. "I knew it would be hard, but..." he shook his head.

Ashley laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "We'll be fine, Joker. But we need to go back in."

"We will." The pilot promised grimly. He adjusted the beak of his baseball cap, and set his jaw. "Just don't expect me to be happy about it."

"Jeff, we are receiving a distress signal from the radio of a downed gunship in the Vancouver bay. It has Anderson's security codes."

"What do you think, Ash? Legit enough to risk our lives again?"

"Let's do it!"

"Get back down to the cargo hold." Joker requested. "The Commander may need some help."

"Promise not to open the ramp in mid-flight again?" she asked, unbuckling herself.

Joker cracked his knuckles. "You're a dream-crusher, Williams."

Ashley did as Joker had requested, collecting James along the way. They waited in the Cargo hold, feeling utterly helpless as the Joker once again put the Normandy through the Reaper's gauntlet. Ashley bowed her head and started praying. The one part of combat which hated more than any other was being in transit. When she was on the ground with a rifle in her hands, at least she had some control over her fate, or felt like it at least. However when she was stuck on a ship during a dogfight, it was the worst feeling in the world. Her life was entirely up to chance, and the skill of the pilot. Thankfully the Normandy was being piloted by Jeffery Moreau, and she could take some solace in that fact by itself.

After another breathless eternity, the flight slowed to a reasonable speed, and he reported through the intercom. "Approaching the LZ."

She headed towards the ramp, shouldering her assault rifle. James had acquired one from the Normandy's armory, and they stood at either corner of the ramp, ready to lend Anderson and Shepard and helping hand. She wondered what they had encountered, and whether or not they'd had as hard a time as she had.

The ramp slowly lowered, blanketing the ravaged cargo hold in sunlight. Ashley squinted for a moment, overcoming the contrast between the bright exterior and the dark lighting of the cargo bay. A building had collapsed into the bay, forming a makeshift dock. A gunship had landed or crashed there sometime near the start of the battle. Shepard and Anderson had taken shelter near it. Reaper corpses were piled along the broken approach, and every available piece of cover was coated in bullet holes. Neither of the two men looked like they were in any better shape than she herself felt. They hadn't had it any easier themselves. Shepard was already sprinting up the makeshift ramp with Anderson following close behind. Shepard leapt aboard as the Normandy drifted to a halt.

There was something wonderful about seeing him wielding an Avenger rifle, wearing Alliance colors again, and standing on the deck of the Normandy. for a moment, she felt as though she were staring at the Skipper instead of the Cerberus traitor.

"Welcome back, Shepard." She offered.

"Welcome back? The Normandy's _my_ goddamned ship, Williams." He grunted coldly. Without giving her a chance to reply, he turned back towards Anderson. Stung, Ashley turned her attention away from him, firing a few rounds at some husks creeping along the twisted wreckage behind them.

"C'mon!" Shepard commanded, holding out a helping hand for his mentor. At that very moment, an Alliance dropship flew past, collecting wounded soldiers from the wreckage.

"I'm not going." Anderson replied, watching the small vessel make its way towards them.

Shepard stood back. Looking momentarily stunned. He planted the butt of his rifle in the crook of his arm and frowned at the Admiral.

"You saw those men back there! There's a million more like them, and they need a leader!" Anderson explained.

"We're in this fight together, Anderson!"

"It's a fight we can't win. Not without help. You know that, Shepard, better than anyone else alive. Go get help for earth. That's an order!" the Admiral reached into his pocket and dug out a set of dogtags. He tossed them towards Shepard, who caught them with unerring aim.

"Consider yourself reinstated, Commander." Anderson said.

"I'll be back with every fleet I can. Good luck." Shepard promised, glancing past his mentor at the burning city. Anderson nodded in reply and rushed down the ramp towards the waiting dropship.

The Normandy rose into the air, the ramp closing slowly. Shepard stayed put, staring at the destruction until the ramp hissed shut. He turned, his tags hanging loosely from his fingertips. He was wearing a hopeless, glazed look.

"Going to put those on?" Ashley asked coolly, gesturing at the dog tags.

Shepard grimaced and started towards the elevator. Instead of answering, he said, "Joker, get us out of here."

* * *

**The timing here might be a little off in terms of what we see of Shepard's side of the story, but we aren't exactly always going to follow cannon anyway. I'm planning to deviate a little more as the story goes on. Basically everything I wanted to say/do in the original game, but couldn't. **

**I wanted to give Joker a moment in the spotlight. We keep hearing that he's a really badass pilot, but we never really see it in-game, aside from MAYBE the end of ME2. I would have loved to see the Normandy slipping through the Vancouver skyline, dogfighting Reaper Occuli. Or even in space, above earth during the final battle.**

**I'm trying to go for smaller, faster updates rather than long chapters which take me forever to do. Just checked. This chapter is nearly 4500 words. **

**Small. Riiiiiiight…**

**Also, last chapter I made a mistake with Eden Prime vs. Horizon. It has been corrected. Thank you to those who pointed it out.**


	5. Chapter 5

Perspective 5

A strange silence had settled over the cargo hold. A tense minute had passed while the Normandy dodged and weaved through the Reaper's rapidly tightening web, and only after they had broken entirely free of the Earth's orbit did the three passengers allow themselves to take a breath.

Shepard was still standing at the ramp, as if stuck in a trance. His dog tags were dangling loosely from his hand. Ashley and Vega's misadventure with the skycar had left the cargo bay in an absolute mess. The bulkheads were severely dented and the deck had been scored in numerous places, scratching the paint and bending the floor panels. Shepard simply stood there, taking it all in, noting the scored floor tiles. Then he frowned disapprovingly.

Still feeling the sting of Shepard's curt dismissal, Ashley felt in no mood to spend any more time around the man. Instead, she headed off to the far side of the cargo bay to clean up the Armory and put it back in order. It was something she knew how to do, and it brought a precious feeling of warmth and nostalgia; a welcomed reprieve from the cold stone which had settled in her gut. The Reapers had arrived. After all that time, they were real, and they were back. She could not ignore them any longer. She wondered how much good she would have done if she'd stood up and tried to talk about it. Would it have helped? Anderson and Hackett both did, and they had been brushed to the political and military sidelines.

No, Ashley decided, Saying something would only have resulted in her being turned down for promotion again. Added to her family history, it may even have ended her career with the Alliance.

James's voice echoed across the cargo bay, interrupting her thoughts. "What the hell's going on? Where's Anderson? Where are we going?" He was charging down the length of the cargo bay, following Shepard, who kept walking towards the elevator, shrugging off the young marine as an annoyance.

"Hey!" James shouted, realizing he was being deliberately ignored. "I'm talking to you!"

"We're leaving." Shepard explained shortly.

James' jaw dropped. "_Leaving?_" he demanded, his disbelief plain to see.

Ashley felt it was time to intervene. They were all tightly wound, and she needed to figure things out for herself. James' attitude was not helping things any more than Shepard's obvious irritation at their presence. On top of that, guilt was beginning to nag at her as she realized that not once during the frantic escape had she considered trying to rescue her mother or sisters. The Normandy would not be returning to earth for a long time. Not if Shepard intended to follow Anderson's orders. And if he didn't? Where would they end up? With Cerberus again? God… she had to… to find out before she ended up on the wrong side of the fight.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Anderson wants us to go to the Citadel. Get help for the fight." Shepard told her, leaning over the nearest console. _And is that what you want, Shepard?_ She found herself asking, silently of course. There was no mistaking the man's lack of enthusiasm about carrying out those orders. Perhaps he was just as stricken by the Reapers' arrival as she felt. Perhaps he somehow thought it wouldn't do any good.

Or perhaps he would rather take the ship back to Cerberus and the Illusive Man.

"Bullshit. He wouldn't order us to leave!" Vega declared angrily.

Shepard let out a strangled grunt and leaned forward, gripping the edges of the desk so hard that his knuckles turned white. His eyes were shut tightly, as if in a silent prayer for patience.

"Well there's a war on! That's where we should be! Defending Earth!"

"Going back to earth right now won't save any lives." Shepard observed, his voice a blank, soulless pit of resignation. "It'll just raise the body count, and the fight against them will just lose one more valuable piece of hardware: The Normandy."

James took a step back, shocked but not silenced. He said, "You left Anderson down there."

Shepard's fingers paused, hovering above the keyboard. He stared blankly at the screen. "He might buy Earth a week or two. Maybe a month, if he gets things organized. The rest of the galaxy needs every second we can get. Without help this war is already over. You _really_ want to go back to Earth now? To fight?" he snorted. "You can hitch a ride back from the Citadel. Or we can toss you out an airlock and cut out the middle-man. In the end its all the same thing."

"Sounds like you've already given up hope." Ashley said carefully.

"Or maybe I'm being realistic about our chances." The Commander murmured. "I'm so goddamned tired of being second guessed by people who don't know what the fuck's going on!"

"James just wants peace, Skipper." Ashley said fairly. "We all do. No one wants this war."

Shepard laughed. "So go bury your head in the sand again, Ash. It's what you're good at. You and the rest of the Allia-"

He was interrupted by Joker, who was making an announcement over the intercom. "_Commander, we have a message incoming from Admiral Hackett._"

Shepard's face lit up and for a moment, Ashley thought she caught a glimpse of the old Skipper. It was enough to make her hesitate in her rebuke.

"Joker? That you?" Shepard demanded, the smile crashing across his features in complete contrast to the sullen mask he'd been wearing.

"_Alive and kicking. You know, if it wasn't for these leather seats, I'd seriously consider a different career path._"

"And miss Normandy Stir-fridays?" Shepard quipped.

"_Sergeant Gardner jumped ship on Terra Nova, remember? We don't have those anymore._" Joker reminded him. "_Now it's just Reapers, and…_"

All at once, the cheerful banter faded, replaced by sullen silence. Ashley exchanged a confused look with Vega.

"…_Anyway, we have an emergency transmission coming in from Admiral Hackett._"

"Yeah…" Shepard murmured, grimacing at the console. "Patch it through, Joker."

Ashely was comforted by the scarred face which appeared on the monitor of Shepard's console, swimming in static. His voice was cutting in and out, skipping and fading as the Reapers slowly cut off the traditional means of communication.

"_Shepard—stained heav— losses.—force was overwhelming. There's no way we can defeat them conventionally._"

"Anderson already ordered me to the Citadel to talk to the Council." Shepard reported. He sounded professional enough, if a little despondent.

"_First I need – liance outpost on Mars — ore we lose control of the system._"

"Mars? Why?" Shepard asked impatiently.

His tone irritated Ashley, who had expected him to at least salute. When speaking with an Admiral, especially one as accomplished as Steven Hackett, it was 'Yes Sir, and No Sir.'. Who the hell did Shepard think he was? He had been reinstated, and proper Alliance commanders did not speak to Admirals that way. The old rules had to be respected. Now more than ever.

If he took any notice of Shepard's tone, the Admiral's reprimand was lost in the static. "_—been researching the Prothean Archives w— Doctor T'soni_."

_Liara was alive!_ Ashley smiled, immersing herself in the wonderful feeling that followed the hopeful news. She had often wondered what became of the Asari doctor after the original Normandy's destruction. She had not seen Liara since that fateful day. Aside from a brief letter of condolences for Ashley's loss, the two of them had not had any kind of contact at all. They had not gotten along very well in the beginning, having repeatedly butted heads over Shepard's affections, but the reclusive Archeologist had grown on Ashley, and she had counted Liara and Tali'Zorah as two of her closest friends. With so much being uncertain, it was nice to know that at least one of them was still around. Ashley gradually became aware that Hackett was still speaking, and rushed to catch up in the conversation.

"—_found a way to stop the Reapers._" The admiral reported. _"—only way to stop them. —contact soon. Hackett out._"

Shepard reached down and shut the feed off. He paused a moment and collected himself, then shook his head slowly as if musing upon some private debate. "You heard him, Joker?"

"_Of course, but…Mars?_"

"Set a course for the Archives." Shepard ordered. "Up for another grocery run?"

"_For a weapon that could stop the Reapers, right?_"

Shepard snorted again. "Seriously? Let's get Liara out of there, at least. She doesn't deserve to die at a dig site."

"_Come full circle, huh?_"

That, at least, was something Ashley understood; she had been on Therum with Shepard and Garrus when they had first picked up the Asari archeologist.

"_Gotta wonder how hard we were checking the Archives before all this started._"Joker continued.

"Guess the Alliance only remembers its homework when its overdue." Shepard murmured. He turned to James and Ashley, both of whom had stayed silent through the exchange.

"Why aren't you getting your gear?" Shepard barked. "You're my ground team until further notice. Any problems with that? Ash? Vega?"

"Sir." Ashley replied. She liked that answer. It was an acknowledgment, but a very neutral word. She still wasn't sure quite where Shepard's loyalties lay, and until then, she'd be keeping an eye on him. He still had not put his dog tags on.

James just let out a frustrated grunt and shambled off towards the weapons lockers. Shepard merely gave Ashley a blank look which hid his thoughts completely, and turned to do the same.

"Why Mars?" she asked quietly. "What does he think we'll find there?"

"You heard him: A weapon." Shepard picked up a pistol and ran a careful hand along the thermal clip ejecting chamber, testing the built-in springs. His grim expression deepened. "And if it helps us win this war…"

* * *

The Reapers appeared to have bypassed Mars completely, having struck for the proverbial jugular. Their attack, while wildly successful, had left the Prothean dig site untouched. Whether this was because they did not know about it, or –the more likely option- they did not care, was an inconsequential mystery for the tiny frigate bearing its way towards the Alliance's last Sol outpost.

Shepard spent the shuttle ride pacing in agitation, gripping the ceiling straps whenever the jarring flight threatened to trip him up. That was new; in the old days, Ashley remembered him to be the calm, quiet figure. He spent the tense Pre-Op minutes in a state so serene it was almost meditative. Now serene was the last word she would have used to describe him. Seated at the back of the shuttle, she was almost thankful for Joker's Sit-Rep. She was not reassured by the fact that the Commander had left his dog tags sitting in a random locker in the cargo bay.

"_I've been trying to reach Mars on secure channels. No one's answering._"

"The Reapers?" Shepard asked grimly, leaning over James' shoulder. The young Lieutenant was acting as the team's pilot.

"_Negative._" Joker reported.

"EDI?" Shepard asked.

There was that name again, and the voice to match it. "_The base appears to be online. It's possible the inhabitants were evacuated._"

Ashley frowned at Shepard's silhouette. She made a note to find out who exactly this 'EDI' was the moment they got back to the Normandy. The woman, wherever she was on board the frigate, always appeared to have all the answers.

"We're about to find out. Be ready for anything, Joker."

"_Yeah yeah, I know the drill. Watch your ass, Commander. Normandy out._"

Shepard turned and approached Ashley, who rose to meet him.

"We're almost there." James reported.

Shepard took up station at the door, his Avenger held loosely in his hands. He seemed slightly uncomfortable with the weapon, despite the fact that it was an Alliance standard issue firearm.

"Still no contact from the base, but we've got a massive storm headed our way." James informed them. Ashley couldn't say he news cheered her up at all. From the way Shepard's shoulders slumped, she could tell he was having a similar reaction. As if the Reapers weren't enough…

"How long till it hits?" Shepard asked.

"Half hour. Tops. After that we're going to have difficulty keeping up Comms with the Normandy."

"Understood." Shepard's voice took on a robotic tone as the shuttle door opened. He shouldered his Assault rifle and stepped out onto the surface of the Red Planet. The storm was enormous; several dozen miles away and it still towered over both them and the miniscule complex they were about to enter.

"Man, that's a huge storm. Looks a lot bigger in person." James observed, awed.

"It's not that bad." Ashley replied, noting the distance. They had time. She took a moment to familiarize herself with the weight and atmospheric differences between Mars and Earth. Combat suits helped, of course, but they never completely negated a low-gravity environment. "I'm more worried about all the people back on Earth." Regret was beginning to weigh heavily on her. How could she have left? What about her Mother? What about her sisters? Abby, and Lynn, and Sarah. Sarah was about to get Married for God's sake!

"Try to concentrate. You should worried about the fact that no one here's reported in." Shepard reminded them, bringing her back to the present. "Stay sharp."

She felt a stab of annoyance at him, but he was right: there was not much she could do until this mission was done. Then she could get back to the Normandy and pull every string she had, every favor and every contact the Williams family had left to get them off-world. The thought of them dying was nigh unbearable.

"Casualty." James reported as they hit a main supply route. It was a relatively flat road, and with a few twists and turns aside, it lead straight to the front door of the facility. A transport had been pulled across it, blocking any inbound supply lines. A dead marine was lying against the wheel well.

"Sergeant Reeves." Ashley said, crouching down to check the casualty's vital signs. "Doesn't look like he put up much a fight."

"Something's not right here." James murmured.

Shepard didn't say anything at all. It was difficult to read his expression behind the mask, but where the sight of a fellow marine's body filled Ash with righteous anger, she saw indifference in every move Shepard made right down to the way he picked up the marine's Viper sniper rifle and shouldered it, cheerfully stowing his Avenger in favor of the long-ranged weapon. He glanced down at the body and then continued down the winding road. "Keep a low profile until we know what's going on."

"Roger that." James acknowledged. Not a moment after he had he spoken the words, the sound of gunfire echoed on the unrelenting Martian wind.

* * *

**I know a lot of people want me to work on Fallout, and I apologize to all of you. But the fact is that I am incredibly busy (moving out of the house) and the Muse is at an all-time lull. This is the only story I can actually find any inspiration for at the moment. I'm hoping to be back soon with more updates to both, so hang in there! **


	6. Chapter 6

Perspective 6

Five soldiers were visible from the trio's vantage point, with a sixth on its knees, hands behind its head. They were gathered beside a transport vehicle unlike the one they had passed further up the road. The prisoner was Alliance. Ashley could see that much. Rage and uncertainty filled her as she took careful note of his captors; their armour was unlike any she had seen before, and it had three very distinct, familiar, and unwelcome colors: black, white, and orange. And that logo on their pauldrons.

James reached the conclusion at the same moment she did. "What's Cerberus doing here?"

Cerberus was here?! On Mars?! Why? What could they possibly want with an Alliance…

Her heart jumped into her mouth as she noted the Alliance bodies already lying motionless on the ground and realized what the soldiers were about to do. "They're going to execute him!" She hissed.

Shepard held up a steady hand. "Keep quiet and be ready." he ordered. On the road below them, a Cerberus Operative readied his submachine gun. Shepard crouched behind the rock he'd been using as cover, and shouldered the sniper rifle. Without any warning to either Ashley or Vega, he neatly took the head off of the executioner. The other Operatives scattered for cover as Ashley opened up with her assault rifle. The Marine scrambled up the road towards them, but was gunned down as he passed one of the operatives. Ashley bathed the target's cover in assault rifle rounds, trying to force him back, but was far too late for the escapee.

A line of smoke arced over the Operative's cover and Ashley heard a small explosion. Martian dust scattered into the air, and the man was thrown into the open, where Shepard's deadly aim promptly disposed of him.

Ashley remembered how frenetic a fighter Shepard had been during their hunt for Saren. At the time, his Spectre equipment had outmatched almost everything they had come across, giving him full leeway to wander the battlefield as he saw fit. He had not used a sniper rifle much, that she could recall. He preferred sticking to his shotgun and assault rifle, leaving the position of Sniper in Garrus' more than capable hands.

So when in hell had Shepard become so proficient with the weapon?

Shepard continued with his strategy, displaying emotionless, methodical care as he bombed the Cerberus positions with exploding concussive shots, arcing them over cover to rain down upon Cerberus' base of fire. Every time an Operative stuck his head out, Shepard would remove the target from the battlefield. James was doing what he could, but he was having a harder time keeping up than Ashley was. Neither of them were armed for the long distance turkey-shoot the battle had somehow turned into, and Ashley got the feeling that Shepard was far more comfortable having them stay out of the fight entirely.

The Cerberus Operatives lasted almost forty-five seconds. A short battle, but seconds could stretch to days when one's life was on the line. The last Operative fell to Shepard's well-aimed sniper round, the incendiary upgrade turning his body to ashes. A familiar post-skirmish silence fell across the road, and Ashley allowed her tense muscles to loosen slightly. She let out a long breath, and watched as James did the same, lowering his shotgun and leaning back against his cover.

Yet Shepard did not stop moving. Barely acknowledging the last few seconds' violence, the Commander stowed his sniper rifle and strode down the center of the road. He pulled his pistol as he went, letting it hang loosely from his grip as he approached the bodies. He ignored the dead marines, crouching instead by one of the Cerberus Operatives, examining the armour and weaponry. He pulled a Mattock assault rifle from the dead agent's grasp, exchanging it eagerly for his Avenger. Ashley couldn't help but notice how comfortable Shepard seemed, handling the Cerberus weapon. Through she had never seen a Mattock before, Ashley knew of them. They had popped up once or twice during Alliance skirmishes with Cerberus strike teams. A deadly weapon, which had ended far too many Alliance lives for her to be comfortable seeing it in Shepard's hands at that particular moment.

He had just taken out an entire Cerberus strike team. She tried to remind herself of that, but that same little suspicious voice in the back of her mind pointed out that revealing himself as a Cerberus asset this early would probably do more damage to the organization than losing a few disposable soldiers. No matter how the war played out, both politically and on the battlefield, John Shepard would be at the center of it. A position of influence and importance. Too important to waste by saving the lives of lesser agents. He would be of more use as a mole.

He turned towards him, and her assault rifle twitched, nearly rising. It was a small movement, but Shepard caught it.

"Williams?" he asked. He had stopped dead, and was giving her a long, hard stare.

"What's Cerberus doing here on Mars?" she asked cautiously.

"Good question." His voice was frustratingly blank. Difficult to read.

"You mean you don't know?"

Shepard glanced at the bodies. "I wish I did." There was at least a hint of honest regret. "A little late to ask now." he kept staring, eyes narrowing behind his helmet. "Anything you want to get off your chest, _Ash_?" the way he said her nickname fired her up immediately. He sounded so …sarcastic. Parodying the gentle pet names they had given each other while chasing Saren. Shepard had been Skipper, and Ash? Well the nickname was a short form of Ashley, but it was the _way_ he had said it, with so much caring and respect and… and love.

Now he had endowed the nickname with a bitter, acerbic edge. She wondered if he was still harboring anger over Horizon, or if it was a sign of his true distain for the Alliance and everything she had stood for.

Yet another layer of guilt began to eat away at her. How badly had she hurt him on Horizon? Had she turned him to Cerberus? Drove him straight into the waiting arms of the Illusive Man? More importantly, with the Reapers ravaging earth, did that really matter now? Personal was not the same as important. And regardless of why, if Shepard was a Cerberus agent it would be disastrous for the entire Alliance. Better that she find out now.

"This is just a little too convenient, _Skipper_." She replied, trying to match his tone. "You were with Cerberus, and here they are again, on Mars. During the Reaper attack. At the same time we land."

Shepard nudged an Operative's body with his toe. "You think I'd shoot my allies?"

"A sleeper agent might."

The man let out a growl of frustration and started down the road. "I am not having this conversation, Williams. If you're going to be a problem, go back to the shuttle."

"Can we sort this out after?" James asked. "I mean, with the Reapers and everything?"

"Yeah…" Ashley muttered. Shepard had already turned his back on her, and was making his way towards the base.

They encountered another Cerberus fireteam at the facility's gaping entrance. Once again, with the same distinct lack of empathy, the Commander methodically eliminated each Operative one by one until he slid his Omniblade –a weapon Ashley had never seen him use in combat before- through the chest of the last Operative. He dropped the man to the ground and stepped up the ramp, into the gaping maw of the outpost's supply elevator. Ashley confronted him as he closed the airlock door. She knew it would take a minute for the airlock to pressurize, and she planned to use every second.

"I need a straight answer, Shepard."

"Ash…" he groaned, putting his hand on his forehead.

"Look, don't you 'Ash' me. Do you know about this? What is Cerberus doing here? Are you one of them?"

Shepard turned to confront her directly. "What makes you think I know what they're up to? And no. I'm not one of them. Not anymore."

"You worked for them. How am I supposed to believe you've just… just…" she threw her hands up in the air. "Just cut all ties? Ended it?"

The way he stiffened told her he was hiding something. Shepard had always been a terrible liar. He'd clearly had some practice, but not enough to slip by her. It was the way he froze up, trying to look natural while actually carefully monitoring his own movements. He had made the same motions after Kaidan had died. Every time she had tried to pry and comfort him. They had been a very close couple, and it was one of the rare occasions when he had not shared his thoughts with her. Back then, Ashley had understood the reason for his distance; on Virmire, he had chosen her because of their relationship. He had left Kaidan with the bomb, and put their entire mission at risk to save her. Having her present and participative during the mourning period that followed had only twisted the proverbial knife. It had been one of the major problems they'd been forced to confront and overcome as a couple.

And now? she still knew, or at least suspected the reason. But he was unreadable. He wouldn't be acting that way unless had had something to hide. The old Skipper would have been doing everything in his power to reconcile. He would have been telling her the whole story, explaining his actions. He would have touched her, or at least held her hand, or… or something! He wouldn't be this distant!

"I worked with Cerberus to take down the Collectors." He explained shortly. "That's it."

Ashley shook her head and turned away, leaning against the elevator's railings. "They rebuilt you from scratch. Gave you a ship. Resources…"

"Let me be clear, Ashley." Shepard moved forward and for a moment, she thought he was going to take her hand, but instead he just joined her at the railing, leaning in aggressively. "I have had no contact with Cerberus since Bahak."

He sounded genuine, yet there was an undeniably personal and bitter undertone to the statement. He continued regardless. "I have no idea why they're here now, or what they want with this facility."

"Commander Shepard's been under constant surveillance since coming back to Earth." James supplied. "No way they've communicated since. We would have caught it."

Ashley relaxed, feeling more reassured by James steady confidence than by anything Shepard had said. An alarm sounded, and the ambient red light of the airlock switched to green, signifying that it was safe for the team to remove their helmets. Which all three of them did. Ashley's hair caused her a little trouble. There was a reason she had kept it short and neat before. Long hair looked good, but it interfered horribly with her helmet seal. He embarrassment was further compounded by Shepard's short-tempered reprimand.

"You want to hate Cerberus? Fine. But I am done explaining myself to you."

The elevator shook and rumbled as it rose, carrying them into the cargo bay of the Mars research outpost.

"We clear, Williams?" he barked coldly.

"Yes sir." She replied through gritted teeth.


	7. Chapter 7

Perspective 7

As seemed to be the norm whenever Shepard was involved, the universe did not give the small trio a moment's pause. No sooner had the elevator rose to a halt, they heard gunfire yet again. This time it was muffled, and carried with it the sounds of clanking and heavy physical exertion. Shepard immediately waved his team into cover behind another parked vehicle. The cargo bay was a large hexagon with an upper balcony and plenty of floor space to allow for goods and vehicles to be sorted and transported. It was not an ideal place for fighting, especially if any hostiles were on the balcony, but Ashley had survived in worse positions.

The gunfire continued for another twenty seconds until the grate burst from an air duct and a limber shape unfolded itself onto the balcony below. Ashley smiled, recognizing Liara's silhouette. The Asari vaulted over the balcony's railing, setting off a singularity with her biotics. It was situated just a foot or two above the vent's opening. Ashley could feel the fine hairs on her arms and legs rise with the energy of the mass effect field, even from across the cargo bay. The air duct groaned, and a few barrels on the balcony rose slightly, all straining towards the miniature black hole, and Ashley pondered the safety of setting off such a field in a facility which depended on being airtight.

The ductwork shook as the gravity well sucked two Cerberus operatives into view, where they floated freely, spinning around the singularity's accretion disk. With a coldness reminiscent of Shepard, the Asari pulled out her pistol and dispatched both soldiers. She strode over to their bodies, and put two more rounds in the head of each operative, just to be safe.

"Liara." Shepard called out, being sure that his presence was known to her before he stepped out of cover. A smart move; it was never a good idea to surprise people holding weapons, and all the members of Shepard's old team were deadly and proficient warriors in their own right. Even if, like Liara, they had not started out that way.

"Shepard!" Liara spun around, a smile spreading across her stern face. "Thank the goddess you're alive!"

James, true to his cautionary training, approached with his rifle raised. At least until Shepard forced the tip of the barrel to the floor. "Take it easy, Lieutenant. She's with us. I'm glad you're alright too, Liara." He answered. Once again, like it had for Joker, the wall he seemed to put up was gone. He was the Skipper again, as if he'd walked straight out of a fight with Saren's Geth.

"It's good to see you! I wasn't expecting you on Mars."

"You too, Shepard." She smiled at him. "We have a lot to catch up on. I was so worried when the reports came in. They hit earth hard?"

"Yeah. It was …difficult… to leave." Ashley said, joining the duo. She was not a fan of the tone the Asari had taken when speaking to Shepard. Perhaps it was just her own imagination, or perhaps she was jealous, but the two of them seemed far friendlier than they had been before. Shepard was finally comfortable, with his arms hanging loose, and a genuine smile on his face.

"Ashley." Liara raised her eyebrows. Surprised, but not particularly unhappy. "I'm sorry to hear that. But why are you here? Both of you?"

"To get you out of here." Shepard explained.

"And Hackett's orders." Ashley supplemented.

Shepard sighed. "He said something about a weapon…"

"A weapon?" The Asari sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I told them…"

Shepard's eyes narrowed. "Liara?"

"It isn't a weapon, Shepard. Not really." The Asari turned away and walked over to the nearest window. The enormous storm was visible in the distance, and between it, Cerberus, and the Reapers, Ashley was getting more and more nervous about sticking around. Especially if there wasn't a weapon afterall.

"The planets held by the Alliance were among the last to fall during the previous cycle." The Asari explained. "That is why the Beacon on Eden Prime was a warning beacon."

"Please pick up the pace, Liara." Shepard urged, his own thoughts obviously running parallel to Ashley's. To her surprise, he did not seem crushed by the fact that there was no weapon. It was just more evidence that he hadn't held out any hope to begin with.

"It's not a Weapon, Shepard. Just a theory. I don't think they even put it into practice before the Reapers arrived…"

"Put _what _into practice, exactly?" James asked, stepping forward.

"A way to disrupt Reaper signals, and counter indoctrination."

"So what? How does that help us?" the youngest marine demanded. "We need bigger guns to take down those guys."

"Explosions are how they fight, James." Shepard explained shortly. "Indoctrination is how they win."

"If the data is used correctly, we may even be able to control the Reapers themselves." Liara added. "But it's just a theory…"

"Now we know why Cerberus is here. Anything that can control Reapers…" Ashley intoned.

"...just might be something Cerberus would be interested in." Shepard agreed.

"So it's a race to the archives, then?" James asked as an explosion shook that section of the compound. Ashley heard several clangs and a faint hiss. Something had broken the cargo bay's airtight seal.

"Helmets!" Shepard ordered, examining the different entrances, looking for a way out. Sparks began to fly from the seams of the nearest door. Cerberus had found them.

"We've got company." Liara observed.

"Bring it on!" James grunted.

"Not this time. Get back to the shuttle."

"What?" the young marine stared at him, shocked.

"If Cerberus gets to the archives first, I want you in the air. Don't let them leave, lieutenant. I want that data."

"But-"

"Now, Lieutenant!" Shepard ordered.

James looked to Ashley for support, but found none. She herself was caught up wondering why Shepard had not asked her to go. Was it because he thought she'd leave them stranded there? Or did he trust her more on the battlefield? Perhaps it was an olive branch of some kind. After all, they had agreed on Cerberus' motivations. Something darker? An old expression echoed in her mind: _keep your friends close…_

As James sank out of sight, Ashley, Shepard and Liara secured their helmets and prepared to engage the enemy.

They came in waves of four and five, taking position on a nearby balcony and firing at the team. As fast as they came, Shepard put them down. His first round of concussive shots obliterated the glass panels in railing of the balcony, ruining the operatives' cover. From there it was sniper fire and more concussive rounds to blast them into view. Liara assisted, creating another singularity to pull the troopers up into the air.

It felt good, working with the two of them again, Ashley decided. Not that this entire series of events wasn't harrowing, but she felt as she had in the old days, fighting the Geth. This was how it was supposed to be. The way things were supposed to work, and she was just getting back into the swing of things when the fight ended rather abruptly.

Shepard immediately began to circle the bay, searching for a way up to the balcony. Cerberus had sabotaged the service elevator, which delayed him by a few moments as he was forced to use a stack of crates to get to his objective. Ashley fell in line with Liara, both of them keeping an eye out for more Operatives.

"What is Cerberus doing here?" Ashley wondered out loud. Perhaps Shepard would a little more accessible now that two of his old teammates were following him. "Are they working for the Reapers?"

"No." Shepard answered shortly as they stepped into an upper hallway and began the long trek across the base. "The Illusive Man is smarter than that. I don't know what their game is, Ash." He turned backwards and gave the newest member of his team a searching look. "Liara?"

The Asari cleared her throat nervously. "I have no information, Shepard. I wish I could be of more use."

Ashely's eyes narrowed as she turned to her evasive squad mate. Apparently Shepard wasn't the only one hiding something. What would Liara know? Had they worked together during his time with Cerberus? Had he corrupted Liara as well? Why would a Cerberus agent work with an Alien? Why would Liara allow herself to be drawn into a game that dangerous? The Asari had not kept up contact with Ashley, instead vanishing a short time after the Normandy was attacked, but Ashley knew that the Asari was not the sort who'd engage in a life of intrigue and spies.

Where had she gone? She _was_ looking a lot… well not older, because Asari couldn't. But jaded and tired, certainly. Closed off. A lot like Shepard himself. Was anyone familiar anymore? Who could she trust? They had all changed so much... Ashley found herself bringing up the rear, suddenly wanting to keep both of her squad mates in sight.

They ran across an Alliance control booth a few minutes later. It was situated in the corner of a larger waiting area. The little room had been trashed, with papers strewn across every surface, computers shot to hell, and bodies lying on the floor and draped across the desk. A row of three intact security monitors had been mounted on the wall above one of the work stations. It showed camera footage, the images flickering from location to location.

Ashley kept her rifle up, scanning the entrances and keeping a close eye on the other two.

"Shepard, see if you can gain access to the pedway." Liara said, taking a seat at one of the consoles. The man obeyed wordlessly, bending down to type into a nearby keyboard. The body of an alliance security officer was draped across it, and he flicked the corpse carelessly to the floor, taking its place as he familiarized himself with the pedway controls.

Liara was typing furiously, the image on the monitors flickering with her. "I can't seem to unlock the live feeds, but…"

"Did you see that?" Ashley asked, staring up at the three screens. On the monitor, a beautiful dark-haired scientist was typing at yet another console. "Who's that woman in the vid?"

Both of her companions looked up at the monitors.

"That's Doctor Eva Core. She was hired on about a week ago." Liara answered immediately. She glanced over at Shepard, who was staring at the image, his face pale. "Shepard? Any luck?"

Shepard didn't answer, and Ashley wasn't even sure he had heard Liara's question in the first place. He was focused entirely on the Doctor's flickering image.

"She kind of looks like…" he murmured, eyes narrowed in fear and anger.

"She's not." Liara declared shortly, settling whatever this issue was. "I spoke with her briefly. There'll be time for this later, Shepard."

The man drew in a long breath and nodded, obviously shaken. He looked back down at the console. "Pedway's been locked out."

"Alright…" Liara bent over beside him and began typing. "Looks like there's construction nearby on the roof. We can find a way around from there."

"Yeah." He muttered, taking one last look at the image. "Let's move."

He did not give Ashley a moment to voice any questions from the gathering throng. Who was the woman in the video? Liara would of course have recognized her. That the two had met was not beyond likely, but Shepard's reaction was curious. Why had that simple image gotten him so worked up? It bothered her how much a ten second video clip had affected him.

They found an airlock a short distance away, and Ashley had a moment to ask while she was fastening her helmet. "Shepard?"

"What?" he glanced at her, raising his helmet to his head.

Trying to ignore his tone, she said, "Was that woman from your Cerberus crew?"

"No."

"But it seemed like you knew her…"

"I don't. Never met her."

"How could he have?" Liara added, frowning at her former companion. "He was in lockdown for the past six months, Ashley. No visitors aside from Anderson and Hackett. No exchanged e-mails."

"And how do _you _know _that_?" Ashley demanded, turning on the Asari. "I doubt that information was put up on the extranet."

"I…" Liara opened and shut her mouth.

"Chief, if there's a problem, go back to the LZ and have James pick you up." Shepard said shortly. "No? Then fall in line."

"It's Lieutenant-Commander, Sir." Ashley said coolly.

"This arguing is ridiculous." Liara snapped at both of them. "We took down Saren together. Ashley, I promise you, once the mission is over, I will explain everything. There's a lot to tell, but we don't have the time right now." She laid her hand on Ashley's arm. "Please? Just trust me? Just until the Mission's done."

The green light switched to red, and a buzzer sounded indicating that the outer door was about to open. When it did, fine red dust whirled around the airlock, and a harsh, howling wind greeted Shepard's small team.

"Storm's getting closer." Ashley observed, shocked by the sudden activity. The rushing wind had brought her back to the moment at hand. Neither Shepard, nor Liara responded. They both moved forward, unconcerned, and Ashley once again found herself bringing up the rear.

The distant light of gunfire flashed across a tram rail a half-kilometer away. Ashley felt relieved to find that someone else was still alive and resisting Cerberus.

"Looks like the Alliance is still putting up a fight." Shepard said.

"That tram leads to the archives." Liara explained. "Once Cerberus is across, they're at the final security checkpoint."

Their radios crackled, and James' voice same through, though it was scratchy, and fading in and out.

"_Commander, you read me?_"

"Barely." Shepard answered. "Storm's causing interference."

"_Tell me about it. I've lost contact with the Normandy. What's your-_" The young soldier's com let out a loud crackle.

"I didn't read that. James, repeat!"

His request was met with yet more crackling.

"Shit…" Shepard muttered, climbing yet another ladder.

"That storm is interfereing with comm chatter." Liara said. "It's getting far too close."

"I think it's already here."

"Fair point, Commander." Liara chuckled. Her laughter was stifled by the sight of an open airlock. Ashley couldn't see her face beneath the helmet, but Liara's movements looked both agitated and confused.

"It doesn't look like it was forced." Ashley added, turning her attention to the door itself. Shepard was already inside.

"It couldn't be. You have to override security protocols."

The hallway lead to a large, darkened room. A faint light was cast from a hallway beyond nearby internal windows. It wasn't really enough to see by, but it lent shapes to the darkness, revealing food stands and plenty of tables. Shepard turned on his flashlight and shone its beam around the room, revealing bodies and half-finished meals still sitting upon the tables. Both Liaran and Ashley activated their own and followed him forward.

A cafeteria…

Ashley felt rage overtake her, and her fists curled in frustration; Cerberus had vented a cafeteria with civilians still inside. How could…? Why…? Had the bastards ever been human?

"This is brutal…" Liara said, her voice tinged with both a sense of disgust, and of awe. They wandered in silence through the macabre mausoleum. Shepard did not seem all that affected by the dead. In fact, he only paused occasionally to read a few of the tablets, but tossed most aside in frustration. The ones he did read all had one common connecting link: Eva Core, the new doctor, was always mentioned, however briefly. Trying to follow his lead, and understand his motivations, Ashley picked up one or two after he was finished with them.

_From: Sho D'hen_

_To: Cameron Harrison_

_CAM!_

_Who the hell is that woman messing in my files? GET HER OUT OF HERE! I won't have my system messed up by some wannabe "Expert" who'll be gone next week! Damn strangers who think they know it all but don't care about what we're really trying to achieve here. Dr. Eva. Seriously? Don't you remember what happened LAST TIME?_

_S._

She set the data pad down where she had found it and picked up another.

_From: Faiza Haikal Tkele_

_To: Sandoval Fletcher_

_Yeah, I know. Two external sepcialists in the same week is a bit insane. But Hudso, I've heard about the Asari before! She's really well known, and she's done some amazing research on the Protheans. I don't know zip about that Dr. Eva chick, but Liara T'Soni? She's the real thing. I'm attaching some of her advanced papers on Prothean culture. Read'em. You'll be a believer too when you're done._

_I can't wait until they introduce her to people. This is so exciting!_

_Faiza_

"Hey, Liara!" Ashey said, somewhat amused despite their situation. She made to hand the second data pad to the Asari, but was interrupted by Cerberus voices.

"Flashlights!" Shepard ordered, shutting off his own. Ashley and Liara both followed suit, taking cover behind a set of food tables. They could hear the Cerberus troops speaking to one another on the opposite side of the glass, only a few meters away. Ashley snuck a peek around her cover. A loose patrol of five operatives, all staring into the pitch black room. Given the contrast, they probably wouldn't have seen her if she had stood up to greet them, but she still ducked back after a second, to minimize the risk.

"_What are our orders?_" one trooper asked, the synthesizer in his helmet making his voice rough.

"_There's an alliance force in here somewhere. We need to keep them away from the core._" Another answered.

"_It's dark in there._" The first soldier observed. "_Want me to shatter the windows?_"

"_Not unless you want to decompress this room too._" His commander replied, confirming Ashley's suspicions. Her anger, which had been simmering near the surface, rose again.

Behind cover, Shepard twisted towards the Asari. "Mir- Liara!" he paused and let out a frustrated grunt. The Asari stared at him. He prodded his thumb at the window, then said, "Singularity. After I smash it."

Liara gave him a three-second long examination before she nodded in agreement. Though curious about Shepard's odd slip of the tongue, Ashley was far more interested in getting revenge for all the helpless civilians Cerberus had slaughtered. It would be poetic justice, somehow, to strike and kill them from within this …crypt.

Shepard granted her wish a moment later, smashing the glass with a few shots from his Mattock. Liara, as instructed, formed a singularity, lifting the entire patrol into the air before any of them had a chance to move, let alone fire back. Shepard and Ashley did the rest, cutting them down with absolute ruthlessness, and Ashley privately relished the way the last trooper's head seemed to vanish in a cloud of red dust.

The moment he was sure all hostiles had been eliminated, Shepard vaulted over his cover and kept moving. He stepped carefully over the shattered remains of the windows, and headed for a nearby security outpost, within which were more Alliance bodies. He started going through their supply lockers, stripping the rom of ammunition while Liara closed the cafeteria airlock and pressurized both rooms. A loud hissing sound, followed by the green shift in the lighting informed them that it was once again safe to breath.

Liara continued typing a moment longer instead of taking off her mask. "There we go. We should have access to the labs. They'll take us right to the tram station."

"There's another recording." Ashley pointed out, gesturing at the console nearest her. The image on it mirrored the dead marine whose rather handsome face was splayed across the keyboard.

"Play it." Shepard ordered grimly.

The image flickered back a few moments, and Ashley winced as she realized she was witnessing the last seconds of the poor man's life. He was sitting at his keyboard, typing away.

"Security Station, come in! We're seeing some odd activity down here." He turned to an off-screen companion. "Our security protocols just kicked in. Everything's locked down." As he spoke, Eva Core's slender profile appeared behind him, brandishing a pistol. She was wearing a skintight white outfit with thigh-high boots and the Cerberus logo on the shoulder. It did not leave much to the imagination.

The woman moved towards the camera, and set about overriding the lockdown codes. The trio could hear the cafeteria alarms going off in the video's background noise.

"And that's how they did it..." Ashley spat. "Bastards!"

Shepard was completely still, the same way he had been the first time he saw the Cerberus mole.

"He replaced her…" he murmured.

"Shepard." Liara laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, which he shook off. "What are you doing?" he murmured to himself, frowning at the frozen image.

"Venting the cafeteria." Ashley answered. "Obviously."

"Not her!" he grunted, frustrated. "The Illusive Man. Why would he do this?"

"Out of hatred for the Alliance? Who knows? It's Cerberus." She answered yet again, growing frustrated. "He's a crazy terrorist, and so is everyone who works for him. Crazy or stupid. There are no good reasons for joining Cerberus, no matter what anyone says. The Alliance gets the good people." As she spoke, Shepard tensed up until both his fists were planted on either side of the keyboard. He remained resolutely silent, staring at the image, but his posture and carefully controlled breathing radiated fury.

Ashley did not care. She was damned tired of trying to understand him or reason with him. She was regretting agreeing to this mission in the first place. It was bad enough trying to face down Cerberus fireteams, but having to do it knowing the teammates at her side might be among her enemies was even worse.

Liara laid a hand on her arm. "Ashley…"

"Don't." Ashley shook her head. "Let's just finish this…"

Liara sighed and looked back at the image. "I should have seen it." Her head bowed in shame. "I was just so focused on stopping the Reapers."

"Stopping the Reapers is the only thing anyone should be focused on." Shepard said softly. For once his voice was tender. "This is not your fault."

"And if there is no way? What if these are our last days and we spend them scurrying around trying to solve a problem we can't fix."

Shepard glanced back at the woman in the video, a wistful, contemplative expression on his face. He steeled himself. "There has to be, Liara. Anything else is unacceptable."

"I know…" the Asari said. "I shouldn't think that way…"

"We'll stop them." He said, ending her musings.

"I believe you. Or…" she shrugged. "I believe that you believe. Hopefully that'll be enough…"

"Good." Shepard readied his Mattock. "Let's move."

* * *

**I'm not going to write down every single moment that Shepard fires his weapon in-game. That's ridiculous. I am only going to try for the parts which either advance the plot, or show character development. I'm spending a lot of time on Mars mostly because its important for the character arcs I'm trying to develop over the course of this story. Expect other less important missions to get brief mentions. I may even skip a few entirely. **

**Also, just for the hell of it, I'm tweaking canon a little. For starters, there is no crucible. I'm not sure how much impact it's going to have, but let's see where this takes us.**

**As always, reviews are appreciated. I'd like to hear your thoughts. They help brainstorm ideas on how the plot would change.**


	8. Chapter 8

Perspective 8

The closer they got to the tram station terminal, the more resistance they encountered. On one level, it was encouraging; they were catching up to the bulk of the Cerberus invasion. Yet the organization had evolved since those minor skirmishes, Ashley and Shepard had encountered on their hunt for Saren. The Cerberus troops were armed with grenades, riot shields, and high powered submachine guns which made the tight, close-quarters combat challenging at best. Shepard hung back, letting Liara and Ashley take the brunt of the Cerberus assaults. It would have been a problem except that he put the extra distance to good use with his sniper rifle, firing through the thin viewing gap in the riot shields to knock holes in the otherwise rock solid Cerberus battle lines.

The tactic worked very well for breaking apart enemy formations, and Liara's frequent singularities assisted in the directed chaos, however Ashley found herself at odds with the unusual tactics, and once or twice she had stood to return fire, only to feel a sniper round zipping past, just inches from her ear, usually taking out her target. As much as these moments frightened and angered her, Shepard displayed little but annoyance that she had gotten in the way of his shot. When had they lost their synchronicity? In battle with Saren, she had formed an unstoppable trio with himself and Garrus. The small team had been damned near able to move and fight without any communication at all. They just all knew where they needed to be, and how best to supplement each other's skill sets, yet the longer she fought with him now, the less Ashley felt she had a place on the battlefield with him. He and Liara pulled most of the weight during the frequent encounters. When had the Asari become so adept at killing? Not to mention so blasé about it.

It did not take long to reach the tram terminal door, and they were promptly informed by Liara. "No doubt Cerberus has it locked down. hopefully we can override it at the security station."

Cerberus did, in fact have it locked down. They had taken control of the enormous ceiling-mounted turret.

"Lookout!" Ashley warned the moment she spotted it taking aim.

"No kidding." Shepard replied, already in cover.

The turret opened fire, taking her shields down, and she considered it a damned miracle that the few rounds which flew past her before she reached cover, missed. They were disadvantaged, certainly. The only approach she could see was the long, narrow hallway in front of them, and the turret was in the perfect suppression position.

"Liara, is this the only way in?" she demanded.

"The only way I know of."

"Can you form a biotic barrier?" Shepard asked. "Moving cover? We just need to make it down the hall."

Liara gave him an incredulous look. "Shepard, I don't know _any_ Asari who could do that."

"Samara did. Against Seeker swarms." He peeked his head out of cover for a moment, and took several hits to his shields as a reward.

"I am _not_ a Justicar, Commander!"

"We could leapfrog!" Ashley suggested, once again suppressing her curiosity for the sake of more immediate problems. The looming prospective of a bullet-riddled death made it all too easy. She continued, "One of us moves up, draws its fire. The others follow. It can only shoot one of us at a time. We'll take turns."

For a moment, she thought Shepard was going to shoot her down again. The expression on his face was once again one of surprise. She would have felt offended except that it was followed by a genuine smile. Like they used to share after successful firefights. It was the first time since leaving earth that she felt she had made some amount of progress. Perhaps he was still in there somewhere.

"Good thinking, Ashley." He said.

Ashley was surprised by how much better that simple compliment made her feel about the whole enterprise. Confident enough that she went first. The turret followed them up the hallway. As they agreed, each one of them spent their due time under fire, and none of them left the other two out to dry. It became a routine, and Ashley realized she had forgotten the intensity of working at half, or often a quarter shield strength. An eternity passed, but at last, they were past the turret's rotational limits, and watching the Cerberus troopers in the security terminal beyond scramble to mount a defense.

But they weren't prepared for Shepard. The fact that he managed to keep the terminals intact was just another miracle.

The live security video feed from across the tramway was waiting for them. All Liara had to do was hack into the system. When had she learned that? That was Tali's specialty!

The Cerberus woman appeared again, still in the skintight jumpsuit. She was handing orders to more Cerberus troops. Ashley was ready, and she made sure to watch Shepard's reactions very carefully. The man seemed to have come to grips with whatever had been bothering him before, and this time he displayed nothing but a quiet anger. Something about the woman both bothered and insulted him. Her existence bothered and insulted Ashley too, but merely being a member of Cerberus was enough by itself. For Shepard, it was something more personal.

"_Set up a perimeter._" The woman ordered. "_No one else comes across!_"

"_But Delta Team is still on the other side!_" one operative protested, his face hidden behind that bulky armour.

"_I said no one. And shut down those cameras!_" The video's last frame was a flash from the tip of the woman's pistol.

"Looks like they've made it to the archives…" Liara observed.

"And they won't be sending a tram anytime soon, either." Ashley added, looking around the room for a solution.

Shepard nodded and turned to Liara. "Can you override it?"

"The Archives were kept on a separate network, Shepard. We're completely locked out."

"Not completely…" Ashley murmured, frowning at one of the dead Cerberus agents. A thought occurred to her. She thought it was rather brilliant, actually. "They have helmet radios, right? They wouldn't expect a hostile to communicate with them."

"And?" Shepard said encouragingly.

"And then we convince them that we're with them. All Alliance forces have been taken acre of… They'll send a tram for us."

Once again, Shepard was smiling. "Good idea. See what you can find."

She gave him a smile in return, and felt her heart glow slightly. The feeling was familiar, though she hadn't felt it for a long time. It would certainly be fantastic to have him back, fighting on the side of Good. Perhaps Cerberus hadn't done as much to him as she had thought. A lot had happened, clearly, but perhaps he wasn't just another drone. Had he been coerced into working with them? Threatened in some way? Between his mother, Anderson, Joker, Chakwas, the Normandy team, and Ashley herself, he certainly had a lot of vulnerable spots. The Skipper was an honorable man, and she knew he wouldn't have done anything to put her life in unnecessary jeopardy.

Perhaps the thought was a little egotistical, but it certainly seemed preferable to every other justification she could find so far for his choice in employers. Was all this hostility simply him distancing himself out shame? Or for her protection? Not that she needed it, of course, but the fact that he _cared_ enough…

As she walked away to find a working Cerberus radio, she heard a short exchange between Shepard and Liara. It made her smile.

"What?" he asked the Asari, his voice coy.

"The Lieutenant-Commander has become very …capable."

"That she has." He agreed.

She didn't hear what Liara said next, but somehow she didn't need to. Besides, she had found a Cerberus body, slumped against a desk. The armour was heavy and strange in its design. It took her a moment to find the latches.

"Commander," she called out as she set about opening the visor. "I've found something."

Shepard materialized a moment later. "What have you got."

"He's got a transmitter in his helmet." She said, fiddling with the last latch, located underneath the chin guard. "If I can just-" something clicked and the visor slid open revealing a horrific, deadened grey face, and blue husk eyes. in a flash, it brought back distant memories of Eden Prime, running from the Geth and their husk slaves. She cried out in shock and recoiled sharply. The corpse's lips were already going green and blue, and rigor mortis was setting in. Those factors, along with the smell, told her that this man hadn't been killed in the latest firefight, but was a casualty of an earlier engagement with defending Alliance forces.

The striking part was the husk features. _What had Cerberus done? _What the hell had they done to their own troops?! Had this man volunteered? Had he been brainwashed? Indoctrinated somehow? How could they do that to themselves? To each other?

She backed away further, sliding on her butt. Her hand was against her nose, trying to block out the smell.

"Oh God…" she said, her voice weak. "He's like a husk…"

"Yeah." Shepard took a knee in front of the corpse and lifted its head to get a better view. He wasn't so bothered by the site. He seemed …intrigued, if anything. First he retrieved the transmitter, then deliberated for a moment, examining the corpse. He said, "Not quite a husk. But they've definitely done _something_ to him."

"Engineered by Cerberus?" Ashley spat angrily, rising to her feet. She found herself angry with him again. How could he have allied himself with people like that? No matter the reason… "They say that they stand for humanity, but they do this to their own people! That could have been you, Shepard. That's what Cerberus had done to you. For all I knew…"

"Do I _look_ like a Husk?" He responded, stung.

"On horizon you did." She argued. "All those orange scars? Yeah. Definitely human! I don't know what you are. Not since they got their hands on you. Is it really you in there?" A far more haunting prospect occurred to her, and she voiced it, asking, "Would you even know?" she turned back to him, watching him grow distance once again. "I don't expect you to answer. I doubt there's anything you could say to convince me. I guess I just need some time to get to know you again. To find the man I used to love."

Shepard winced, but collected himself. "It's funny…" he chuckled, though there was no humor in his expression, his voice was dead cold. "A hundred giant invincible death machines from beyond the rim of the galaxy land on earth and start destroying our entire civilization… and you, _Ash_, you still have trouble spotting the enemy. I am on your side. Liara has no trust problems here."

"Maybe I don't know her so well either."

"Or maybe you're just fucking paranoid. How the hell are you going to manage if you can't keep your gun pointed downrange?"

_That _stung. Far more than she was willing to put up with. But he beat her to the punch. "You need time? So do I! But guess what, _Ash_, we're out of time! All those civilians dying on earth? They're out of time! The Alliance fleets? The ones getting decimated right now? They're out of time! And the rest of the galaxy? Well it's only a matter of time!"

"It not that simple, She- "She began, but he bulled her over, getting louder by the second. His face was contorted in rage, and she thought for a moment that he might strike her. She saw Liara rush around the corner, gun at the ready. The Asari lowered it as soon as she realized what was going on.

Shepard continued, oblivious. "You had time! Six! Fucking! Months of time! Same with the Alliance! The hell were you idiots doing? Hmming and Ahhing? Planning? Don't make me laugh!" He jabbed his finger at the corpse. "Cerberus used that time. I don't know what the hell this is, but it's more than the Alliance has!"

He held up the transmitter. "Now, I'm going after that data. You don't trust me? Please, stay here. I beg you. You can Hmm and Ahh until the Reapers land. See how long that 'tactic' lasts you then."

Ashley stayed silent, her face burning with embarrassment. A thousand replies echoed through her mind, and in her imagination, she was the eloquent orator, her counterarguments forcing the man to his fucking knees, pleading for forgiveness. Cerberus was Evil. How the hell could any sane human think any other way? In her mind, she was making grandiose speeches with airtight arguments, all of them reducing Shepard to a blubbering apologetic mass, yet somehow her mouth wouldn't quite follow through on it. He was right about one thing: She had been in Vancouver for six months, waiting for the Alliance brass to decide what to do, and trying to decide whether or not to visit him in the meantime.

Shepard turned away, and took a deep breath to calm himself. He schooled his features before activating the transmitter. "Hello? This is Delta Team. Anybody there?"

"_Where the hell have you been?_" came the faint reply, and Ashley shuddered as she imagined the husk-like face of the speaker. Somewhere on the far side of the tramlines, more of those abominations lay in wait. "_Nevermind. What's your status?_"

"At the tram station awaiting extraction. All hostiles terminated."

"_Sorry. Tram lines have been shut down. Highest level orders._"

"But…" Shepard paused. We have wounded, and our medic is down. We're down to forty percent strength."

"_That much?_"

"Yeah? Well they managed to get this far, didn't they? It wasn't easy."

A few tense seconds passed, then, "_All right. We're sending a medical team to assist._"

"Are they actually sending a team back for us?" Liara asked, shocked.

"Surprised?" Shepard asked dryly. He shot Ashley a venomous glare, which she returned wholesale. He said, "Showing sympathy for their allies? It's almost like they're human."

The Tram took a little while to arrive, which gave Ashley a moment to confront Shepard. Liara seemed perfectly happy to stay out of the way, and Ashley was grateful for that. This disagreement was between herself and her former lover. The man was sitting on the steps of the large room's central staircase, his sniper rifle cradled across his knees. He refused to meet her eye, keeping his gaze locked firmly on the far side of the tramline.

"Shepard." She said coldly.

"I'm not having this discussion, Ashley. Not right now." he kept staring.

"What? You get to vent, but the moment I want to say my peice, we're all about the mission?" She snarled.

"Something like that." He answered distantly. "I already know what you're going to say: the same meaningless Alliance drivel the shrinks kept puking at me during lockdown."

"You don't want to be with the Alliance anymore." Ashley said. "I have a serious problem with that. You know what I think? I think you'd rather go running back to the Illusive Man."

"Is that how it seems?" Shepard mused quietly. On the far side of the tram lines, a sizeable Cerberus force was mustering. Evidently they were cautious about breaking the rules.

"For the record, I can't go running back to the Illusive Man. He fired me for destroying the Collector base instead of handing it over to Cerberus. You're right when you say I don't want to be with the Alliance. Fact is I don't want to be with Cerberus either." Shepard's eyes shut, as if he were trying to block out the world. "You think none of this has taken its toll, Ashley? Fighting Saren and Sovereign? Dying, then chasing the Collectors across the Galaxy. What happened between us on Horizon. Then trying to hold off all of this, and failing. it's like trying to hold back the tide. I'm tired, Ash. And I'm scared. And this… this fucking war…" he let out a long, exhausted breath. A loud buzzing filled the station for a few seconds, and they watched as a tram packed with Cerberus soldiers slowly began to crawl across the guides.

"I am sorry I yelled at you. I've been bottling this up for months and mid-mission was the wrong time. One last push. Then we'll talk, alright?" he promised quietly. "I don't want to be enemies. I have enough as it is. We'll talk for a long time. There's a lot of ground to cover."

She took a deep breath, feeling that she had finally broken through to him. After all of this, she had finally made some progress. "Alright, Skipper. Let's get this done."


	9. Chapter 9

Perspective 9

The fight across the tramlines was short and brutal. Ashley, and by the way he was fighting, Shepard himself, were both pouring all of their frustration and unresolved issues into their combat. The Cerberus forces did not last all that long. Even with all of her frustrations, and her knowledge of what the Cerberus troopers actually were, Ashley was still hesitant about shooting the medics themselves, identifiable by the crosses on their armour. By the time she sorted through the moral quandary, Shepard had already taken them out with his sniper rifle, happily sorting it out himself.

Cerberus did manage to momentarily delay the relentless Alliance team, by blowing up one of the tram rails. However the moment they sent another tram in to finish the job, Liara used a singularity to pull all the hostile forces off the vehicle, which Shepard was then able to commandeer so that they could finish their journey.

Another Cerberus team was waiting in the cargo-filled docking platform at the far end. They suffered the same fate as their unfortunate teammates.

The Archives themselves were situated in an enormous windowless circular room. The Prothean Beacon at the center was in a reinforced glass cylinder with an access console at the front. Several strange-looking circular pads were placed at intervals around the console. Ashley had never seen anything quite like them before. Shepard carefully made his way towards it, with Ashley and Liara bringing up the rear.

"Ash, keep an eye out." Shepard ordered quietly. "That doctor is still at large. Liara, get working on that console." He himself joined Ash, both of them keeping Liara covered as she found the data and began uploading a copy to her Omnitool.

"Hey, Liara, are those…?" Shepard pointed at the floor pads.

"Entanglement communicators. Some of the Alliance's earliest models." The Asari answered.

Ashley's eyebrows raised skeptically. She had heard a few rumors. Communicators that could relay information in real time from anywhere in the galaxy to anywhere else in the galaxy. She had thought it a fantastical invention.

"Taken from the Normandy?" the Commander inquired bitterly.

"That was the prototype, yes." Liara answered, distracted by her searches through the archive.

Shepard grunted, wearing that now familiar sour expression.

"Wait… Cerberus had it first?" Ashley demanded.

"Among other things." Shepard answered. "I bet the Alliance isn't going to give them any credit, though."

"The Alliance has made plenty of technological advancements too." Ashley defended. "And at least we didn't sacrifice our honor to do it!"

"Save it." He said shortly. "Liara, how long is that upload going to take?"

"I don't know." The Asari frowned. "It going much more slowly than usual. I'm trying to figure out why."

"Cerberus." Ashley answered. No sooner had she spoken, then light flickered above one of the communicators, revealing a well-dressed man holding a lit cigarette. His suit was expensive, far beyond anything Ashley would ever have been able to afford. He was handsome, yet cold. Middle-aged, and his hair was beginning to gray at the scalp. His eyes were either bionic, or covered by some sort of complex interface. They looked mechanical, and were vaguely unsettling to watch.

"Shepard." He said pleasantly.

"Who the hell is this, Skipper?"

"The Illusive Man." Shepard answered dryly, stepping forward to speak to the flickering hologram. Ashley's rifle snapped up, pointed straight at the terrorist's heart.

"I don't know what you're expecting to accomplish with that firearm, Commander Williams." The Illusive Man said, addressing her directly. "I am light-years away…" he took a puff of his cigarette. "This is all thanks to the wonders of human technology."

"Shut up." Ashley snapped, hating him.

The terrorist ignored her, instead staring thoughtfully up at the Archives. "A fascinating race, the Protheans. You know, they left all this for us to discover, but we've squandered it."

"No we haven't. This Archive gave us knowledge of the Mass Effect." Ashley countered. "Without that, we wouldn't have space travel."

"Fat lot of good it's doing us now, though." Shepard said grimly. "How hard were we searching for this data before the Reapers came? The Alliance has had the Archives for thirty years. What have they done with it?"

"Don't agree with him, Skipper!" Ashley growled, feeling that horrible seed of distrust grow yet again.

"Skipper?" the corner of the Illusive Man's mouth twisted upwards in amusement. "How adorable. But I'm afraid it is a valid question, Williams."

"Don't talk to me. I don't want to hear your bullshit."

"Just because you don't like him, doesn't make him always wrong, Ashley." Shepard said. "And I do want to hear this, so sit tight."

"But Shepard-"

"Lieutenant-Commander Williams, this isn't a democracy! I am a council Spectre, and I can speak to whomever I damned well please!" Shepard barked. Years of Alliance discipline betrayed her as Ashley's entire body drew to Attention, her heels clicked together to form a perfect V, with her rifle at her side, the butt on the ground. Shepard turned angrily back to the Asari. "How long is that upload going to take, Liara?"

"It's a lot of data, Shepard." the Asari snapped back at him. "Perhaps you should ask your new friend. It's Cerberus codes that are slowing me down!"

The Commander turned back to the Illusive Man. "What is Cerberus doing here? What do you want?"

"What I've always wanted." The terrorist told them, still examining the Prothean construction. "The same thing you want, Shepard. The data in these artifacts holds the key to solving the Reaper threat."

"I've seen your solution." Ashley spat. "You've turned your own men into monsters!"

"Monsters? Hardly. They've been improved."

"Improved?" Shepard inquired, in a tone far less confrontational than Ashley's.

"That's what separates Cerberus from the Alliance, Commander. Where you see only a means to destroy, I see a means to control and dominate. We can harness the Reaper's power and use it to Humanity's advantage."

"Earth is under attack and you're planning _this_?" Ashley asked, incredulous. "The only way to insure our safety is to destroy the Reapers. Not control them!"

The Illusive Man smiled at her. "And where would humanity have been if our ancestors had taken the same approach when dealing with Fire, I wonder? Would we have risen to dominance then?"

"Fire doesn't slaughter galactic civilizations." Shepard said impatiently. "Liara?"

"I'm doing the best I can, Shepard!" the Asari growled, working diligently.

"Yet it does burn, if left unchecked." The Illusive Man waved a dismissive hand. "A microcosm of our current predicament. The Principle is sound. But you've always been short-sighted, Commander. Hasty. Your destruction of the Collector base has proven that."

"Hundreds of thousands of humans were murdered there. I couldn't let it stand." Shepard replied. Ashley watched in silence, a small amount of hope growing within her. He had resisted the Illusive Man, then? Avoided falling completely under Cerberus control? Then why was he so hostile to the Alliance now?

"What happened on that Mission, Skipper?"

"He hasn't told you, then, Williams?" The Illusive Man answered.

"I didn't ask _you_."

"Hang on a minute…" Liara murmured, stepping back from the terminal. She began to examine the room, ignoring the argument completely. She pulled out her submachine gun and slowly began to circle the enormous archive, motioning for Shepard and Ashley to stay put.

The Illusive Man seemed unconcerned, concentrating on Ashley and Shepard. "What all have you kept from her, Shepard? What doesn't she know about your former crew, I wonder? Especially your Executive Officer…"

"What is he talking about?" Ashley asked, staring at the back of Shepard's head.

"Don't cause me problems." The Commander warned, and she wondered if he were referring to the Illusive Man or to herself.

The Illusive Man's eyes followed Liara as she circled the inner wall of the Archive chamber. He turned his attention back to Shepard. "I wish I could say cooperation was a priority, Shepard. You were an undeniably effective asset." The Illusive Man took a long drag on his cigarette and let out a narrow stream of smoke. "But this is not your fight any longer. You cannot defeat the Reapers, with or without the Prothean data. The Protheans tried already, as did thousands of races before them. This problem requires a different solution. So, like the rest of the relics in this place, your time is over. Goodbye, Commander."

They heard a shout from Liara, and a short burst of gunfire.

"Shepard!" the Asari cried, "She has the Data!"

A pale shape with jet black hair darted for the entrance.

"Hey!" Ashley took off after the nimble figure, with Shepard in close pursuit. The traitor ran, legs pumping robotically as she tried to outdistance her pursuers. She leapt sideways as Shepard fired a concussive shot, trying to trip her up. Ashley opened fire as best she could, but she was running at such a speed that most of her shots went wide, and the rest splashed harmlessly across the woman's shields. In response, the scientist held up her omnitool and release an incineration blast that knocked Ashley off her feet. Shepard cleared her prone form and kept up pursuit, presumably trusting Ashley and Liara to keep up on their own.

The pursuit lead them up a ladder, and out onto the roof of the facility. Ashley barely had time to secure her helmet before the airlocks opened and flushed the outpost clean of its pressurized atmosphere. The storm was nearly upon them, the wind making it difficult to see, and nearly impossible to keep an even footing. They were halfway across the roof before Ashley realized something which made her blood run cold; the woman did not have a helmet. She was running at high speed through the Martian storm without any suit, or protection whatsoever. She was even pausing occasionally to blindfire at Shepard's team, and she let out a continuous stream of incineration blasts, which were incredibly difficult to dodge. Liara soon caught up with the rest of them, and joined the chase. The Asari was limping slightly, but doing her best to keep up.

"James, you reading me?" Shepard demanded, broadcasting across all the radio channels. "Cerberus has the data! James!"

The Marine's reply was lost in static.

"Get the Normandy down here now!" Shepard roared. One of the incineration blasts caught him in the shoulder, throwing him onto his back. By the time he had risen to his feet, Ashley and Liara had nearly caught up. They could hear the sound of shuttles, and Ashley hoped to god James's was among them.

They followed the Doctor, whatever the hell she was, up yet another ladder to a rather sheltered part of the base, in the lee of a larger section where the wind wasn't quite so strong. Eva Core was sprinting across the open rooftop towards a Cerberus shuttle.

"She's getting away!" Shepard shouted as the operative leapt aboard the shuttle. Two Cerberus troopers were already inside, and they opened fire on Shepard's team, forcing them to dive towards the scant cover. "Damn it! James? Normandy? Anybody!"

The Cerberus shuttle's door slid shut, and Ashley broke from cover, pounding towards it at high speed. She had no idea what it would accomplish, but her mind was centered on one simple fact: Cerberus couldn't win. They weren't allowed to win. That was quite simply unacceptable.

"Ash, Ten O'clock high!" Shepard warned. She glanced upwards. The faint blue silhouette of the Normandy's shuttle could be seen against the backdrop of the red atmosphere, racing towards them and getting larger by the second. It took a moment for Ashley's brain to process what James was about to do, but she managed to dive backwards. A long, complicated moment passed. She heard the crash, felt the impact of both shuttle's hitting the hard surface of the roof, but within the myriad of explosions, scraping and twisting metal, all she could do was curl up and pray neither of the enormous vehicles landed on her. After a few seconds, the noise died down somewhat, and she uncurled and let out a long relieved breath. The Cerberus shuttle was lying not three metres away, bent to hell and burning from all four twisted engine compartments, not to mention the passenger housing. Smoke billowed up into the atmosphere and was snatched away by the storm winds.

Ashley rose slowly to her knees and refused Shepard's helping hand; she had her pride, after all. The Normandy's shuttle flew past in a jerking, lopsided path. Shepard waved it down, and it half landed, half crashed onto the roof. Ashley took a moment, hunting down her rifle and helping Liara to her feet. She began to walk the wounded Asari towards the shuttle, but Liara resisted.

"We need the data." She said.

"Right…" Ashley turned back towards the Cerberus wreck. The door jerked outwards, and for a moment, she thought another explosion had taken the passenger compartment. But then the door jerked again and flew off, skidding several feet across the roof. A burned humanoid figure stepped through the flames, and all at once, the woman's strange abilities made sense.

Eva Core was a mech, finally stripped of her outer human shell. Ashley did not wait to examine the robot further. She let go of Liara and drew her pistol, determined to end the Cerberus creation once and for all. At the same moment, Eva sped towards her, clearing the flames and rushing across the short distance.

Ashley managed to land two shots on the mech's abdomen before the pistol was ripped from her grasp. Ashley's visor went dark as the Cerberus creation's spidery fingers gripped her by the helmet and lifted her into the air. She kicked out desperately, trying to break the mech's hold, but she might as well have been kicking a brick wall for all the good it did. She could hear Shepard and the others shouting at her, or perhaps at the mech, which was completely unconcerned.

"Orders?" Ashley heard that feminine voice ask. It was communicating with the Illusive Man! Ashley's horror only grew as she realized her fate was in the hands of the Terrorist leader.

And had none. Ashley kept a tight grip on the mech's arm, trying in vain to lessen the blow as it spun her around and slammed her again and again into the side of the shuttle. Ashley cried out in pain as her teeth rattled in her jaw, her head swam and something in her neck cracked and filled her with white-hot agony. Her vision swam and blood filled her mouth. A second blow shook through her, and Ashley's world faded away.

* * *

**Seemed like an appropriate place to end the chapter. **

**I want to offer a word of warning: From here on in, for a little while at least, the pacing is going to get a little strange. I'm just filling in the gaps and changing details here and there to set up this particular AU.**


	10. Chapter 10

Perspective 10

**I bit off more than I could chew. With everything else I'm doing right now, and the fact that I only have access to a keyboard once a week…**

**I'm actually writing a lot of this chapter at 3:00 in the morning. It's when I could find the time.**

**I will not be able to re-write the plot of Mass Effect 3. Not with all the constraints IRL right now. So I'm making the adjustment now before this story actually deviates too much from the canon plotline. The Crucible exists again, and all the crazy that goes with it. This was always meant to be a Shep/Ash/Miri story anyway, so I'll prioritize that part and leave the rest to another time. My apologies to all of you, but this is the only way its going to get written at all right now, and if I wait too much longer, I'll lose it entirely.**

* * *

A hero is no braver than any ordinary man, except that he is braver one minute longer.

John had heard that somewhere, and staring down at Ashley's prone form, he had never felt more respect for that quote. John Shepard was scared. More than scared, he was terrified. It was ten hours into the Reaper war, and he felt lost and alone on a ship that was no longer his, run by an indifferent bureaucracy. One that had carefully dismantled everything he had been living for and stowed him away like an old shovel in a garden shed. It was ten hours into the Reaper war, and Cerberus - his hope, his ace in the hole, had already turned against him. It was ten hours into the Reaper war, and Earth had already fallen. It was ten hours into the Reaper war, and Ashley Williams of all people was already a casualty. How could they ever win if that was the rate at which his allies were being removed from the fight? How many more were there going to be? What was going to happen to everyone and everything he knew and loved?

What was going to happen to Miranda?

What the hell had John done to anger fate so much? To be forcibly pulled from heaven by his own supposed allies and thrust into six helpless months of purgatory, only to be pulled out and tossed into the gaping maw of hell itself?

The one thing he had learned over the course of the Collector mission, this lesson both his blessing and his curse, was that he was not a Soldier. Not a savior. He was a human being. His name was John Shepard, and he wanted a quiet life, somewhere with green trees and chirping birds and beautiful sunsets.

He wanted a life with Miranda.

He no longer felt disposable, and that was the worst part. If he died, he would lose so much more than had ever been at stake before. He had strings now. Ones he couldn't afford to cut. Responsibilities and desires he knew he couldn't put aside for the greater good. Dangerous ones at that. Ones which could cripple him.

The Illusive Man's subtle hints about Miranda echoed hollowly in his ears, filling him with fear and helplessness.

He wished she were with him now. God, how he wanted her at that moment. To run his hands through her hair, smell her perfume, taste her lips. He wanted to take her to bed and hold her, both of them snug under thick covers, simply pressed against one another in joyful bliss. Just a little bubble of space. A blessed moment in time. If only he could… pause the universe or block the war out somehow. Pretend it didn't exist, even for a moment as he had done so many times before Bahak.

But staring down at Ashley's immobile body, he knew that pretending anything was an impossibility now. This was it. No going back.

As for what had happened to Ash, well… it was unfortunate. John felt genuinely sorry for her, but he also felt vindicated. He hoped that when she woke up, she'd remember Horizon, and everything she had stepped away from. Everything she had said. Her distrust, and refusal to either understand or acknowledge the truth of the matter: Whatever it took to beat them. Work with any allies, broker any deals. John didn't understand why Cerberus had been on Mars, nor what the Illusive Man had intended for the Mech now lying in the AI core.

They were secondary problems anyway.

The Normandy was on its way to the Citadel now. Partly so that Shepard could hand Ashley over to some certified medical professionals, and partly so that he could talk to the council. There was no way they could back out this time, he knew. No way they could deny the threat. It was three years too late, but perhaps now, they'd finally listen.

They had to. The Galaxy had no other options. He couldn't find himself putting any faith in Liara's new weapon. It was too damned convenient. When had anything ever been that easy?

He rubbed his forehead and turned away, stalking across the length of the empty medbay towards the door. The Normandy was so dark… everywhere he looked, he saw nothing but differing shades of blue, purple, and dark grey. Alliance colors. He was already getting tired of it. As he wandered through the alien corridors of what was formerly his ship, the Alliance personnel who passed him by spoke in subdued tones, hurrying from place to place. Their eyes showed curiosity, awe, and a vague sense of hostility. As they moved, they passed through ghosts of his old crew. There was Thane, exiting the life support room –except no, it was simply another faceless uniform. Sergeant Gardner would have been at his station in the galley… god only knew where he was now. Shepard avoided the crew quarters for fear that Rolston and Patel wouldn't be there, sharing jokes and stories. Shepard didn't dare think of approaching the XO's quarters. Even thinking about it, about _her_, caused that unbearable hole in his heart to widen further.

His aimless wanderings eventually found him in the new War Room, where Hackett was waiting to speak to him over the QEC. Shepard wondered exactly how much of the designs for it the Alliance had stolen outright from Cerberus.

"Did you get to the archives?" the Admiral asked.

"Yeah. I was there." Shepard affirmed. "So was Cerberus."

Hackett rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I was worried Cerberus might try something."

"And I was worried they wouldn't."

Hackett's hand dropped to his side as he glared at Shepard. "Good Alliance personnel lost their lives at that base, Commander."

Shepard thought of the child. "And innocent civilians are losing their lives on earth as we speak."

Hackett sighed. "Liara warned me you might act like this. I'm well aware of what has happened here, Shepard. Arcturus is rubble, and we've lost more of the Alliance fleet than we can afford just escaping Earth. I've presided over the worst military defeat in human history."

"Yeah." Shepard said, unable to hide his smug, congratulatory tone any more than he could hide the smile on his face. "You did."

He was twisting the knife, and for once he didn't care at all. Hackett deserved it. The Alliance deserved it. Everyone who had ever ignored his warnings deserved it. Hackett's glare intensified.

"Do we even have a plan, Sir? I mean besides 'Throw everything we've got at them and lose'?"

"Commander-"

"Does the Alliance have a plan, Sir?"

"We're going to make the Normandy the tip of the spear, Shepard. Your ship is stealthy. You can be in and out of systems before the Reapers even know what hit them."

"It's just an edge." Shepard warned. "That won't win this. Won't even give them a black eye."

"Then it will buy time for us to complete the crucible. Every second you can give us is vital, Commander."

"And we're just going to hope the Crucible works?"

"We don't have that many options left, Shepard."

John was forced to agree. "We've really backed ourselves into a corner here, sir."

"I understand that. And this must be frustrating for you. But I'd advise you to adjust your attitude, Commander. Your crew is going to sense it."

Simply slapping a random alien device together and hoping against hope it would somehow destroy the Reapers was among the stupidest ideas Shepard had ever heard the Admiral suggest. Their only viable plan seemed as pathetic now as it always had; gather the galaxy's forces, fight the Reapers. Shepard knew that there was no way the council would agree to it.

* * *

One council meeting later had proven him absolutely right, and now he was standing on Menae, watching a Sovereign class Reaper stalk across the distant landscape. Its horn blared, heralding death across the barren plains. Yet at last, John felt as if he were once again solid ground. Garrus Vakarian, in his combat armour, was standing at Shepard's shoulder, his sniper rifle at the ready. The Primarch was a dozen meters away, safe and sound, ready to be picked up by the Normandy.

"Without him, there's a good chance we lose this moon." Garrus observed quietly

John nodded. "I know. But without him up there…"

"…We lose everything." Garrus finished.

Shepard nodded. They watched the Reaper burn a squad of Turian soldiers, its red beam chasing shadows across the landscape. It let loose that horrific wailing noise again, sounding almost victorious.

"Look at that." Garrus said, shaking his head. "Failed C-sec Operative, Vigilante, and _I'm_ their expert advisor?"

"When have we ever been prepared, Garrus?"

The Turian laughed hollowly. "Yeah… can't say I'm sure flying by the seat of our pants is going to get us through anymore. What is the council doing to help?"

John winced. "Nothing. They're going to let Earth burn. Palaven too, probably. They're consolidating.

Garrus growled, clearly unimpressed. "Oh, I bet they just leapt right up and formed an Official Committee to debate the pros and cons of galactic annihilation."

Despite everything that was happened, Shepard couldn't help but chuckle.

"And you?" the Turian asked carefully. "Think you can win this thing, Shepard?"

John thought of Miranda. Now that Garrus was back, he at least felt that he wasn't floating freely anymore. Now he had a lifeline. A tether to drag him back form the edge and put him back in the fight. Someone at his back he could actually trust.

But it wasn't enough. He said, "I don't really have any choice. I don't get what I want any other way."

Garrus seemed to sense the direction of his friend's thoughts. "Any contact from the old crew?" he probed.

"None."

The Turian winced. "Don't worry. I'm sure they're… safe. I'm sure She's safe. She's hard to drop."

John nodded, feeling slightly mollified. "What about you, Garrus? You sure you want to step back into this?"

The Turian shrugged and shook him by the hand. "Everyone's got to have a hobby. I wouldn't miss it. Gotta warn you though. I'm expecting at least half your royalties from the vids when this is over."

John managed another half-hearted smile. "Welcome aboard, Garrus. There's no Shepard without Vakarian."

* * *

**Short chapter, mostly filler to tell everyone how far along we've progressed. Time will jump around a little from now on. The next one will be longer. And hopefully more interesting.**


	11. Chapter 11

Perspective 11

Shepard stared down at the slop on his tray. Across the mess, he could hear Alliance marines speaking in subdued voices. He had no doubt they were talking about him. The food was simple. Ground meat with legumes of some kind, soaked in tomato sauce. Not spiced at all, and the sauce was far too thin for his personal taste. They were headed back to the Citadel. Garrus was catching up on some sleep. Or calibrating. One of the two. It was how the Turian stayed sane, if performing the same task over and over and over again and expecting a different result could be called that.

The mess hall was horribly quiet, its lighting barren and crypt-like. The crew bustled past at varying speeds, none ever stopping for anything more than a quick nod to one another. Shepard had to wonder what they were thinking. Had the reality of this war just been sprung on them over the past week? Had they been oblivious before? How many of them had been expecting the Reapers? He had known for years, and still had trouble processing it. These poor bastards were only just beginning to realize it.

Were they scared? Without a doubt. How many of them had families and loved ones back on earth? How many of them knew just how slim the chances were? Whatever happened, he knew he was going to have to find a way to brighten the Normandy a little. The level of seriousness and depression aboard was going eat away at them all until despair set in. He could already feel it happening to himself. The Council's latest decision, the Ashley… situation. And he still hadn't heard from Miranda.

At that moment, the only bright light in an otherwise pitch black future was the fact that Garrus was still alive. Yet the Turian seemed as weary as Shepard himself felt. It was a very different feel from his Cerberus days. Even those before Miranda had opened up.

A few crewman passed by, staring at him in suspicion. Very quietly, John collected his meal tray and headed up to his cabin.

* * *

_The entire table was laughing uproariously, including Shepard._

"_No way in hell!" Gardner called out from behind the counter._

"_No, it's the truth!" Joker persisted, slapping the table for emphasis. "The honest truth. Shepard, Garrus and Williams spent three hours chasing a space-monkey."_

"_It wasn't exactly a monkey." Shepard said, going slightly red. _

"_Ape-like." Garrus agreed. "Almost like a pyjak, but bigger. I still don't know what we needed that data module for."_

"_I have no idea either." Shepard said._

"_Then why did you do it?" Kelly demanded, grinning from ear to ear. Ken, Gabby and Patel all leaned in to hear his answer. Rolston was still snickering at the idea._

_Shepard shrugged. "It was an entertaining way to waste a few hours."_

"_When the Galaxy is at stake, you can always count on Commander Shepard to step up to the plate." Garrus added slyly._

"_Quiet, you." Shepard muttered, jamming an affectionate elbow into the Turian's ribs. He turned back to his captive audience. "Besides, that wasn't the craziest thing to happen to us planetside, Garrus. Remember Ontarum?"_

"_Oh… Spirits…" Garrus shook his head hopelessly and planted his forehead in his palm. "Not this again…"_

_Shepard leaned forward, planting his elbows imperiously on the table. His audience did the same. He paused for effect, then declared, "This… is the story of the Shifty-Looking Cow."_

"_Oooh." Joker grinned._

"_The what, Commander?" Gabby asked._

"_Okay," Shepard grinned, bursting into motion. "So it happened about two weeks after Virmire. We're in the Kepler Verge hunting Dr. Saleon-"_

"_Bastard." Garrus added venomously._

"_Who's that?" Patel asked._

"_Yet another story." Shepard said. "Anyway we're scanning the newton system, and I realize that we can actually land on Ontarum. Its moon is decaying, and it's not going to be around forever, so I decided to land and explore a little. I might not get the chance, next time, you know?"_

"_I read an extranet special on that." Rolston supplied. "The cost of saving the planet would bankrupt every council race in the galaxy, so they're just letting it die."_

"_That's so tragic." Kelly said. Patel and Gabby both nodded._

"_So what? There are a hundred more like it out there." Ken said. "It's a bloody big galaxy."_

"_Mister sensitivity." Gabby said, jabbing her thumb at him. "Right here, everybody."_

"_There are plenty of habitable planets, Ken." Shepard agreed. "Plenty with plant life, but none I've seen that were quite that beautiful."_

"_I want to hear about the cow, Commander." Rolston said, amused at the concept. "What made it so shifty-looking?"_

"_Well here's the thing, we were driving the Mako up the side of a plateau, looking for a better view. The top was barren and grassy, and occupied by only one animal: A cow. Four legs, two little arms, two ears, one nose, and two black, beady little eyes. We stepped out of the Mako, and it started clomping towards us. Tali thought it was cute, but it wouldn't stop following us."_

"_I'll agree that that part was creepy, actually." Garrus added. "Every time we looked at it, it would pretend to look away."_

"_No way!" Ken said._

"_No word of a lie, Ken." Shepard told him. "This is the honest truth. Now here's the weirdest part, the thing poked me in the back, right? And then credits started draining out of my bank account."_

"_Bull!" the crew were shaking their heads in disbelief._

"_It's true!" he fought back. "It was stealing from me!"_

"_Credits were draining," Garrus supported tentatively. "But whether it was the Cow…"_

"_It was." Shepard said defiantly, but he suddenly realized that his audience wasn't listening. Or rather, they were focusing their attention on their food trays. Gardner had his back turned, and was in the midst of washing dishes. Even Joker had his eyes averted, and was using his spork to poke a few sliced mushrooms around his plate._

_Shepard and Garrus exchanged confused looks. Then he heard high heels clicking across the deck. He glanced over his shoulder, towards the XO's office. Miranda Lawson, wearing her white catsuit, was stalking indifferently towards Gardner, pointedly ignoring the rest of the crew, treating them with the same cold silence with which they were treating her. She halted at the counter and extended one slender hand, picking up a tray._

_The cook turned and deposited his latest creation onto her plate. It was followed shortly by some vegetables and a slice of garlic toast._

_Miranda stared coldly down at her plate_

"_It's Chili, Ma'am." Gardner explained._

_Shepard watched as the XO gave her meal a careful examination. "Too much ground beef. Too much Cayenne. Meat is expensive, as are spices. You aren't cooking for the Zesmeni hotel. The Normandy SR-2 is a Man of War." She scolded curtly. "Cerberus did not supply you with an unlimited expense account."_

"_My apologies, Ma'am." Gardner responded stiffly. At the table, Shepard noted the eye-rolling amongst the crew members._

_Clearly feeling that her point had been made, Miss Lawson turned and strode back to her office. The moment they heard the door slide shut, the mood lightened considerably. Gardner walked over and took a seat between Ken and Rolston, the former giving him a supportive pat on the back._

"_I have to tell my daughter that story about the cow." Rolston said, grinning. The thought of Rolston's child enjoying the story broke the sudden chill which Miranda had brought. The entire mess hall relaxed._

"_Go ahead." Shepard replied, smiling broadly. He found his gaze inexorably drawn back to the XO's office. Why didn't she ever stay? Not that the crew's reaction to her presence was any help, but they would never warm up to one another if she was never around. Especially not if she always acted the way she did. Nothing would ever change. _

"_I don't understand why you thought the cow had anything to do with the disappearing credits." Garrus added. A few members of the crew snickered._

"_It was preferable to thinking you or Tali would ever steal from me." Shepard shot back. He crossed his arms. "Or from anyone else, for that matter. The Normandy always had a tight-knit crew."_

"_And then there's us." Kelly prompted. Shepard met her eye, and realized that she had left him an opening. It often surprised him, how perceptive that woman could be sometimes. He wondered how long ago she had guessed what he was leading towards. It was odd that her best trait was the one she kept hidden from everyone else, instead keeping up the appearance of a joyful yet vapid secretary._

"_I meant us." He said. He ran his thumb affectionately along the edge of the table, smiling around at the ships interior. "Cerberus or Alliance, it doesn't matter. The Normandy is… special. On board this ship, we're all part of something bigger."_

"_Space-cow investigators." Joker supplied, without missing a beat. Once again, laughter spread across the table._

"_Monkey-chasers." Garrus added. The laughter doubled._

"_Smartasses." Shepard scolded lightly, rising from his seat. His tray was empty, and had been for some time. "Anyway, I'm off. I have some reports to file. That may have been the best chili I've ever tasted, Rupert. Thank you." _

"_Happy to help, Commander." Gardner said, smiling._

_Shepard delivered his dirty dishes to the counter and made his way towards the elevator, though that was not his true goal. For the benefit of the crew, he made a show of pausing in the hallway outside the XO's office, then he changed his direction and headed towards it instead of the elevator._

_Miranda was seated at her desk. Her tray was on a table in the lounge area of her spacious quarters. It had not been touched._

"_Commander Shepard." She greeted as he walked in. Her tone was clipped and formal. "What can I do for you?"_

_Shepard frowned, examining her perfect features. She was beautiful, yes, but Shepard did not honestly find her all that attractive. Not the way that Ken would joke about it. Looks mattered to him, but so did character, and she was too cold. Shepard just wished to god she would smile on occasion. That would have helped no end. It would have made her approachable, at least. She was far too determined to be exactly what he hated about Cerberus._

_He eyed the food tray behind her. "Enjoying Gardner's cooking?"_

"_Ah. I thought that might be the reason for this visit." She paused in her typing and looked up at him with cold blue eyes. "This mission has a set budget, Commander-"_

"_The XO and CO shouldn't contradict each other, or argue in front of the crew," Shepard replied, cutting her off, "But I paid for those ingredients myself. You have no right to dictate how he uses them."_

"_I have every right. Your pay comes out of Cerberus funds, as does everything else. I know how much those meals cost, Shepard. Now we don't have enough for Mordin to research better heat sinks for our assault rifles." _

"_It's worth it." Shepard said._

"_Oh, good. Well the next time we encounter the Collectors, you may throw as many spices at them as you please." She replied acidly._

"_There's more to this mission than weapons and combat, Miranda." Shepard argued. "I can't ask people to die with me, to go on a suicide mission with me, if they don't feel that their lives are valued."_

_Miranda frowned at him. "Odd. That should actually make it easier. Those of low value are expendable."_

_Shepard retained just enough control to prevent his jaw from dropping. How in hell did one debate with someone that cold? He said, "Well I'm sure that's of great comfort to all those useless civilians we're protecting."_

"_I'm sure it would be of great comfort to those already captured or killed by the Collectors that the great Commander Shepard is doing his part to keep our spice rack stocked." _

"_I'm doing what you brought me back to do."_

"_Most of what you're doing is utterly useless."_

"_I disagree. I'm trying to build a team here, Miranda."_

"_Your team already knows their duty to humanity. I am trying to look out for Cerberus' interests, and keep our cell's ultimate goal at the forefront. This is a bloody big galaxy, Shepard. It's easy to lose sight of our true objective."_

"_This is bigger than Cerberus."_

"_In that case it is certainly bigger than the amount of meat in Gardner's Chili."_

"_So then why do you care how much meat he puts in?"_

"_Why don't you?" She leaned forward aggressively. "Every second we waste scanning for planets or doing unnecessary errands, and every credit we waste –even on spices or meat, or refilling your damned fishtank- is one more colonist missing. One more setback for humanity's efforts to expand and keep up with the other races. It's one more victory for the Reapers."_

"_I can't just order them to…" Shepard paused, trying to find a way to get across his point. "Look, where did you go on your last vacation?"_

_She gave him a cold look, and he realized he'd made an error. An unspoken assumption. He sighed and sat back into the chair across from her desk. "Miranda, I understand where you are coming from. Believe me, I do."_

_She raised a skeptical eyebrow, but he soldiered on. "I want to stop the Collectors, and the Reapers. I really do. I care about it more than anything else. That's why I'm working with Cerberus in the first place." He hesitated, then added, "It's why I didn't walk away with Ash on Horizon. You've told me a little about your past. Your father… the… the gifts he gave you enable you to work like this. To think like this, but most people can't. When under pressure, most people need to be able to shut off. They need good food on occasion. They need jokes. They need stories. They need to feel that they're part of a team and a family. It's not a comment on their belief or commitment to their ultimate goal, Miranda. It's simply part of being fallible. Being human. Everyone on board is only human, and if I'm going to ask them to throw themselves into the fire, the least I can do is buy them a few good meals beforehand. Maybe if you'd just…" he stopped, before his mouth got him into trouble._

"_Maybe if I would… what, Shepard?" Miranda asked coldly._

"_Why do you eat here alone?" He asked, trying to change the subject, or at least approach it from a different angle. Her eyes narrowed, but she let it go, and answered him._

"_I have work to do. Reports to file. Expenses to manage."_

_Shepard shook his head. "There will always be work to do. For everyone on board."_

"_Not Jack."_

_She had a point. "…Alright, so for almost everyone on board. Everyone else finds the time to switch off. To gather in the mess and to socialize-"_

"_I don't care about socializing." The woman replied acidly, "We are not funding-"_

"_No, I think you do care." Shepard told her earnestly._

_Miranda's skeptical eyebrow rose again, but her expression remained otherwise unchanged. _

"_My one, single objective is to see that the Collectors are destroyed."_

"_Just try eating with the crew, maybe. Learn how to let your hair down…"_

_The woman paled slightly, and the chilliness radiating off of her increased. He wouldn't have thought it possible. She said, "Like Williams let hers down?"_

_Shepard's eyes narrowed, and he took a deep breath, fighting back the memories, and the bitterness. "You know that's not what I meant. Do not bring that into this."_

"_Well, keep your nose out of my personal business."_

"_You don't have any personal business for me to stick my nose into. That's what worries me. I don't want to see one of the most capable members of my crew burn herself out."_

"_I have been doing this for over twenty years, Shepard. If I were to burn out, it would have happened a long time ago."_

"_You haven't been facing what we're facing."_

"_The Collectors are simply another anti-human faction which must be eliminated."_

"_And the Reapers?" he leaned forward. "You are aware that the apocalypse is coming, right?"_

"_Acutely. It stands to reason that we should do everything we can to prepare. You and this crew can gorge yourselves on the finest caviar, and larks stuffed with peacock's tongues after its finished if you like. I don't care what you do. But until that moment, our job is to stop it. That necessity transcends everything else. If you were any good at your job, you would understand that fact."_

_Shepard took a short breath, keeping his temper in check. A shade more coldly than he had been before, he said, "We can't all work ourselves to exhaustion. I am not going to order my crew to do that."_

"_If we want to survive it, then we can't spend the last days partying, either." _

"_So you agree there's a happy medium somewhere in the middle."_

"'_Happy' has nothing to do with the outcome of this mission, nor the Reaper war as a whole. I have work to do, Commander. This is your ship, and your mission. You may treat your crew as you wish. Just remember where your resources are coming from. Remember who stood by you after the rest of the galaxy turned its back."_

"_You're part of my crew as well, Miranda." Shepard told her, rising to his feet. He had lost this battle, he knew, though their private war was far from over. "If you're going to be a stick in the mud, fine. But in your own private little world, at least try and enjoy the Chili. This mission may be the last time many of us will ever taste it."_

The door to Shepard's cabin slid open, and Garrus Vakarian stepped inside, searching for his friend. He found Shepard on the 'L' shaped couch, his meal spread out on the table in front of him. The man was giving the Alliance rations a rather sour look. A few bites had been taken, but it was otherwise untouched. A half-finished report lay on the table next to it.

The Turian descended the short staircase and flung himself down at the opposite end of the low furniture. He said, "Since when do you work through your meals, Shepard?"

"There's a lot to do, Garrus." The human muttered, his expression softening.

Garrus reached across the table and snatched up the tablet. He scrolled down past the Alliance logo to the relevant report, which was no more than a few lines of text:

_Arrived at Mars outpost. Encountered hostile Cerberus forces. Engaged. Retrieved Crucible designs & Cerberus Mech. Unsure of Illusive Man's motives._

"Riveting."

"Smart ass." John reached up and rubbed his eyes.

"Why aren't you down in the mess? Shouldn't you sharing all of our adventures with the new crew?"

"There's no time for that. The Reapers are here. everyone should be working through their meals."

The Turian chuckled. "You're channeling Mira-"

"Don't go there, Garrus."

"Something tells me you already did, John."

Shepard stayed silent.

"I already had a long talk with Liara. She's worried about you and so am I. Pretty soon people are going to expect you to step up to the plate and start leading this fight. It's hard to stand behind a misanthropic shut-in."

"I miss Miranda. I'm worried about her."

"I know." Garrus said sympathetically. "I know what you're going through. I'm worried about my family too. But I can't let that stop me from fighting."

"I think the Illusive Man is going to try and kill her, Garrus."

"After her about-face at the Collector base, I have no doubt he already has tried."

John felt fear rush through him. He grimaced.

"I also have no doubt he failed. Miserably. Remember what happened to Captain Enyala?"

Shepard's grimace deepened as he remembered the way the Asari's body had disintegrated, caught in Miranda's vengeful biotic fields.

"Listen to me, John." Garrus leaned forward and tapped him on the knee. Shepard looked up and met his eyes. Garrus said, "I have no doubt whatsoever that Miranda Lawson is alive and well. She hasn't contacted you yet because…" he gestured around at the cabin's freshly repainted in Alliance colors. "It could get both of you in a lot of trouble. But this won't do either of you any good if you're stuck in this state. I doubt she'd be impressed. She'd tell you to get your act together."

Shepard chuckled.

"And you have to. You're Commander Shepard, remember? You have to give us that image at least. Our chances are slim enough as it is."

* * *

"_Where are we headed, Commander?_" Joker's voice echoed over the intercom as Shepard stepped up to the dias. The Galaxy map burst forth, and John studied it, trying to decide what the next step was. Tuchanka was waiting, but Shepard's own curiosity kept drawing him back to the Cerberus base on Sanctum. What were they planning?

Traynor spoke up. "Commander, we're receiving a message from a…" she leaned into her console. "Captain Enyala."

Shepard blinked and frowned at her. "What?"

"That's what it says, Sir." Traynor told him.

"Captain Enyala is dead, Specialist." Shepard replied evenly. In a fit of rage, Miranda had used her biotics and torn the Asari to literal shreds, traumatizing most of the Eclipse mercenaries under the Captain's command. Not to mention both Shepard and Garrus. It was the sort of thing Jack would have done, and the one reason John suspected that the psychotic biotic would have bitten off more than she could chew, had she ever attempted to carry out any of her threats against Mira...

The penny dropped, along with Shepard's jaw. Excitement and admiration coursed through him and for a moment the war vanished into a limitless pink cloud. How had he missed it? That woman thought in the most ruthlessly efficient circles!

He took a breath and composed himself. "Forward it to my private terminal, Traynor."

"Yes sir." The young woman seemed bemused by his strange reactions, and by the way he headed straight for the elevator without pausing to give Joker a destination.

* * *

**Alright, so ending it here for now. I think I'll be showing the occasional flashback to some moments during ME2. They won't be in order or anything, but I'll at least try to make them relevant to what's currently going on in the chapter. **

**Expect Ash as well next chapter.**

**I've always felt that Garrus' relationship with Shepard was always slightly different than everyone else's. He not subservient or subordinate in the same way.**

**in Fallout news, The next chapter of Mutatis Mutandis is on its way. I just got my computer set up at my new digs. Still don't have internet, though, so I can only post once a week, but I can type as much as I want to now, which means I'll have much greater output.**


	12. Chapter 12

Perspective 12

"_John?_"

Shepard's heart soared as Miranda's melodic accent echoed in his ears. Giddy relief swept through him and he couldn't stop himself from smiling. Yet something was wrong. The voice had been broadcast to his earpiece. He reached up to it and scanned the crowded docking bay where she had told him to meet her. Her white and black catsuit was nowhere in sight.

"Miranda. Where are you?"

She made an exasperated noise. "_Stop touching your earpiece, damn it! You'll draw attention to it!_"

His arm dropped to his side.

"_I never understood why you and Garrus always insisted on doing that. Even in the middle of combat for Christ's sake._"

"Style?" he murmured, taking a closer look. It was bay D24, the Normandy's regular assigned port. Civilians of all major races were scattered in loose gaggles along the hallways, and in the seating area. He couldn't see her in the crowd, and fiery frustration ignited within his chest. "Where are you? You said we were going to meet here."

"_I am here, John. I can see you._"

He scanned the faces of all the women in the crowd, and came up empty. "Well I can't see you. Why aren't you with me?"

"…_It's complicated._"

"How?" he inquired, failing miserably to mask his frustration.

"_Be subtle._ _Look to your three O'clock._"

John cast a casual glance to his right. The seating area was half-full. A group of young Asari, a sleeping Quarian migrant, a group of human passengers, and a mixed bag of Turians and Salarians. A Hanar was in the corner, preaching its words of enlightenment to anyone who would listen.

"_The humans, the passengers in the green jackets? Those are N7 commandoes. They've had the same training as you, and their division has been trying to catch me for the past two weeks. Cerberus fed them a tip I might try to get aboard the Normandy. They are always here when you dock. _"

One of the incognito soldiers, her nose buried a little too far into her book, caught his dumbfounded stare and sent him a flirty wink. He waved awkwardly. One of her companions leaned over to whisper something to her, and now that he was watching for it, Shepard saw the way the passenger moved. Miranda was right, they were N7 marines. It was a certainty of motion, and their calm stillness during the long waiting periods. N7 Marines did not fidget. It was not even a conscious thing, but it was a dead giveaway.

"_They know who you are. By the way, if that marine woman makes a pass at you, respond in kind. Be flirty. It will lessen the suspicion that you and I had a rendezvous planned._"

"You want me to…?"

"_Of course not. But it's part of the job. Are you aware that you have been standing in front of the Normandy's airlock for the past seventy-two seconds, talking to yourself? It's beyond suspicious, and you need to move. Again, be subtle. Do you see the Pillar opposite Avina's terminal?_"

John spotted the solitary pillar at the far end of the docking bay. A couple, an Asari and a Turian were standing near it, engaged in their own private conversation.

"I see it."

"_Take up position on the right side of the pillar, and stay near the window. The docking bay cameras have a blind spot there._"

John flashed the female marine a smile of his own, and carefully made his way over as Miranda had instructed. He settled against the railing, watching taxis fly past the window.

"Are you alright?" he asked, "Are you safe? Are they listening to us?"

"Yes_ to the first two. As for the latter, I know how to do this, John. I've got our conversation routed through several proxy servers. Through the Alliance's classified networks, I also hacked your Omnitool. We're changing communication frequencies every six point eight seconds. That buys us about fifteen minutes without their hounds knocking at our doors. It's the fastest security measures I could put in place on such short notice. You'll have to forgive me. I've been on the run most of the time. The Illusive Man doesn't take rejection well._"

"Are you alright?"

"_I fine, John. He tried, and he failed._ _I suppose he taught me a little too well. It's ironic, really._"

"Come aboard the Normandy." Shepard suggested hopefully. "You wouldn't have to deal with all of that…"

"_I wish I could. I want to._"

"So let's do it. We'll pick you up. No one's going to argue with me."

"_How I wish that were true._"

"I will pull my weapon on them before I let them do this to us again." John murmured through gritted teeth.

"_I know…_" she said gently. For a moment, her clipped, business-like tone faded. "_I would too, and that's exactly why I can't stay with you right now, regardless of how much I want to. There are too many larger things at stake here. Putting your reputation and credibility at risk also endangers your efforts to unite the species against the Reapers."_

"You're very well informed, Miri."

"_Any idiot could figure out your plan, John. You've only been laying the foundation for it for the past three years._"

John grinned to himself, staring out across the length of the ward arm. "Did you ever try to contact me while I was in lockdown?"

"_Secret meetings with the Cerberus second-in-command?_"

"…Would have been tough to explain." He admitted.

"_Any kind of secret communication would have been even worse. Besides, I'm tired of it. The Life, I mean. This life. I think… I've been doing this for too long… I don't want this to be something we have to hide._"

"It won't be."

"_All we have to do is beat the Reapers to get there._"

"Right. Sooo… tomorrow evening, then? A bottle of Thessia red, and some classical music?" Her laughter echoed through his earpiece. John smiled and shut his eyes. How he treasured that sound… She did not laugh very often, but it was when she was at her most beautiful.

"_I want you to know that I missed you. Surprised myself, how attached I got. I'm not good at attached._"

"I missed you too, Miri. Still do."

"_I know. Something else is wrong though, and I'm getting worried. Oriana missed her last two daily check-ins._"

Shepard felt a stab of jealousy. Six months of no contact with him, yet she had talked to her sister on a daily basis. He wasn't sure which relationship Miranda valued more: her affection for him, or her sisterly love. He was absolutely positive that a competition was not a healthy way to look at the whole situation, either.

"What's going on?"

"_I… I don't know, but all of my surveillance went dark shortly afterwards._"

"Did Cerberus go after her?"

"_Perhaps they enabled it. spread a few tips. But I've done a little digging and the entire situation stinks of Father's influence._"

"Well where is he? I'll knock some sense into him."

"_I appreciate your candor, John, but you haven't a subtle bone in your body. He is donating heavily to several war refugee funds at the moment. If you take him out, that cash flow stops, and they need that money. This is a delicate dance, not to mention a family matter. The moment you enter the picture, so does the public. I can't allow that._"

"I want to help."

"_I know, and I appreciate it, but you have your hands full. Don't pretend otherwise. You deal with the Reapers, and I promise I will be here after it ends. We'll be together._"

"Do you remember what we said about promises?"

Silence on the other end.

"I need more, Miri. I don't want to put you in danger, but I can't just leave here without… I can't walk away. I can't function on just a promise you know you might not be able to keep. I need something solid. I need to know you're actually here. I missed you, Miri. I could hardly bear it."

He heard her soft sigh on the other end of the line. After a few moments she said, "_I don't think I can walk away either…_" he could practically hear the wheels in her brain spinning industriously on the other end of the line. After a few moments of deep thought, she said, "_Damn it, alright. But let's do this carefully. Face the window, hands at your sides. Whatever you do, don't look for me. Keep your eyes out the window. You promise?_"

"Why?"

"_Those are my terms._"

"They're stupid terms."

"_Those stupid terms will keep us both safe. The moment they find out about us, you're compromised. You know that, John. They can't know we've communicated. Just… trust me._"

"I do."

John obeyed, staring out the window. After about a minute, he smelled her perfume, the scent lingering in the air around him. It shocked him; she _had_ been there in person the whole time! Through the whole conversation she had been watching him. Near him, somewhere in the docking bay. How close had she been? Somewhere in the crowds at the security checkpoint? With the Hanar? Hiding in plain sight amongst the N7 commandos?

All of his questions vanished as her clothed fingertips, gentle and slim, slid into his palm, caressing it for just a moment. He wanted to look. With all his heart, he desperately wanted to. Yet though it nearly killed him, he kept his promise. They slipped away and vanished. Shortly afterwards, her scent faded too. John kept staring out the window, trying desperately to put himself back together.

* * *

Inside the Normandy, the airlock door slid shut. Shepard leaned back against it, his eyes shut tightly as he ran the conversation through his head again and again.

"You know it's been like three hours, Commander. Where have you been? You rushed off in a hurry. Didn't even give me a destination."

Shepard started, opening his eyes. Joker was seated in the pilot's chair. He had turned 180 degrees to face the airlock, a mock angry expression on his face. Garrus was standing beside the pilot. The Turian was giving the Commander a speculative look. Shepard met Garrus' eyes first. The Turian's mandibles twitched, his species' equivalent of a raised eyebrow. He was searching. Not for answers, but for confirmation. Shepard smiled slightly and nodded. Pleased, Garrus nodded back, his suspicions confirmed.

"You left me hanging for a dead Asari Merc." Joker grinned, either oblivious, or choosing to ignore the silent conversation. "It hurt my feelings."

Shepard grinned, clenching and unclenching his hand, trying to hold onto the feeling of her fingertips. It was something to grasp at least. He had an anchor now. Something to hold on to. Something to fight for. He glanced down the long hallway to the CIC, and noted the sour expressions on the faces of most of his crew. The Normandy's crew. Garrus had been right; he had let this go on for far too long.

Time to turn things around. Speaking slightly more loudly than usual, so that the crew could hear the confidence and self-assurance in his voice, Shepard said, "Head to the war summit, Joker. It's long past time we got this show on the road."

He turned and headed back towards the CIC. Garrus fell into step beside him, and as they walked away, the Turian gave him a firm pat on the shoulder.

* * *

Consciousness came slowly, and for a few happy moments, Ashley's mind was peacefully blank. Her head was pounding, and even the slightest attempt at movement resulted in needles shooting up and down her neck.

She tried to open her eyes, and winced as bright light lanced through the crack in her eyelids.

"I'm sorry about this…" said a female voice, too young to be Chakwas. And the Normandy's medbay lights had always been dimmed a little except for emergency procedures. So where was she? In the background, she could hear a familiar white noise and the buzz of activity which answered her question immediately: She was on the Citadel's presidium.

She tried yet again to open her eyes, and this attempt was somewhat more successful. A blue blur slowly formed into the concerned and guilty face of an Asari doctor.

"I'm sorry." The alien said again. "You really aren't ready for this, but the Councilor insisted."

"Is she awake?" another voice asked. This one was petulant, demanding, and male. Udina's voice. The man moved into view and hovered over her, peering down at her as if examining a classroom science experiment. He said, "Williams, welcome back."

"Sir…" she rasped, letting her eyes shut. The light was far too painful. Ashley slowly faded in and out of consciousness. Voices slipped in and out of hearing, but she managed to pick up the odd partial sentence. She wasn't sure how long the conversation was taking. It could have been an hour, or a matter of seconds.

"…need her more attentive."

"Patient …to rest."

"…has to wake up."

"Can't do that… out her own permission."

"Lieut …liams is a hero… exemp… arine Corps. Humanity needs her. We ne… more than ever."

"Not without her consent."

A small amount of pressure was placed on Ash's shoulder and after a few groggy seconds, she identified it as Udina's hand. He said, "Humanity needs you, soldier!"

"Yes sir." She said as coherently as she could manage.

Humanity's councilor turned back to the doctor. "There… consent."

Ashley slipped away.

* * *

The second time she awoke, she was far more coherent from the start. Her eyes flew open, and she examined her surroundings immediately, trying to get her bearings. She was dressed in a hospital gown, and her gear was nowhere in sight. The wall to her left was transparent, showing off a wonderful view of the Presidium. To her right was a shaded glass wall separating her modest room from the rest of the hospital. Several different clear liquids were being drip-fed into her arm, and an Asari doctor was standing near the medical equipment, trying to look pleased.

"Good afternoon." Said the doctor. She glared at someone over Ashley's shoulder, and removed an empty syringe from the machinery hooked into Ashley's arm. "She's awake now."

"She gave her consent." Udina stepped into view.

"Such as it was, I suppose."

"Leave us." The councilor ordered.

The doctor made an irritating noise, but turned and walked out, leaving Ashley alone with the human councilor.

"Sir." She said. She had a terrible headache, and her spine still tingled, but both problems were not nearly as severe as when she had first woken up. One of the clear plastic containers hanging from the rack behind her must have been filled with some sort of pain killer.

Udina produced a chair and sat down beside her sterile cot, his hands clasped in front of him. "Williams, I wish I could have given you the time to rest and heal properly, but I am afraid there is too much to be done."

"I'm ready, sir." Ashley said immediately, despite her injuries. "Whatever you need me for."

Udina smiled. "That is exactly the kind of drive we need to put this situation to rights. I never had much respect for Admiral Anderson, as you know, But it is easy to see why he chose to have you assigned to the Normandy."

"Where's Shepard, sir? How long have I been out?"

"Your injuries at the hands of Cerberus were far too severe for the Normandy's medical bay. You were brought to the Citadel and dropped off at Huerta Memorial Hospital for proper treatment. As one of Humanity's finest soldiers, your name is near the top of our triage lists."

Ashley's hear sank. "You have lists already?" how long had she been out?

Udina nodded grimly. "I wish I could say this war was going well. It has been just over two weeks since the Reapers took earth from us. I regret to say that we have not been able to do much to slow them down. As for Commander Shepard…" Udina's equine face, as dreary as it had been at the start, turned even more sour. "Well… as far as our agents can ascertain, he is spending most of his time in the Aralakh system, attempting to broker a treaty between the Krogan and the Turians."

Ashley snorted. The idea sounded insane, but she was somewhat glad that he- that someone – _anyone _- was trying to make progress against the Reapers. She frowned as she processed Udina's wording. "What do you mean 'our agents'?"

"Commander Shepard is working exclusively with Admiral Hackett. He has refused to even reply to larger Alliance updates and orders. He appears to prefer working a little more… independently. But his mission is fool's errand, to be sure." Udina agreed. He shifted uncomfortably. "It was on that subject, actually, that I wished to converse with you."

"Can't happen, sir." Ashley told him confidently. "Those two races hate each other too much."

"Once again, I couldn't agree more. Only a fool would assume they could solve a blood feud running that deep. It is an optimist's pipe dream and we are past the point where those can sustain us. Optimists are fools, Williams. I, on the other hand, am a realist. And a cautious one."

"So cautious you weren't even willing to accept the Reapers were real." Ashley said. She had never quite forgotten, nor forgiven the man's betrayal during their fight against Saren.

To her surprise, the man actually looked mournful. Penitent, even. "I am well aware of the number of lives my own hesitancy cost, Lieutenant-Commander. They are weighing more heavily on my conscience than even before. The best I can do now is to protect Humanity and the Alliance to the very best of my abilities. Which is why I would like to get back to the subject at hand. I have been a politician for a long time, Williams. May I call you Ashley, by the way?"

"Williams will do, with due respect, Sir." She said, trying to be polite.

The aged man flashed her a slight smile. "Of course, Williams. As I was saying, I've been a politician for a very long time, and the one commonality I've found between all races is that there are always at least two reasons for any action taken by a representative of a governing body. The reason given-"

"…And the real reason." Ashley finished for him.

"Exactly." Udina said. "And I couldn't help but notice a rather disturbing pattern about John Shepard's movements since the war started. He says he's trying to broker peace. But wherever he goes, Cerberus seems to follow. They are in Aralakh system right now. It has been confirmed that he has encountered them at least once. His reports are… vague."

"Maybe they're trying to kill him."

"Perhaps."

They sat in silence for a short time while Ashley tried to sort out exactly what the man meant. She was smart enough to recognize the accusation when she heard it, and she had to admit, a certain treacherous part of her agreed with him.

"I did a little digging into his past. Found a few interesting facts. One of them being your surreptitious relationship."

A cold stone seemed to settle in Ashley's gut as she recalled that passionate night before Ilos. Now more than ever in the past year, it seemed like a mistake. "Am I in trouble, sir?"

"Williams, if the Alliance went about punishing every marine who needed to blow off steam, we would get little else done. It is not unheard of, after all. That is how Shepard came to be in the first place. Just so long as it doesn't interfere with your professional lives - and it doesn't appear to have in this case- we are more than willing to turn a blind eye. As a matter of fact, I was hoping you might be able to use it to provide both of us a more intimate perspective on recent events."

"I don't think he is with Cerberus, sir." She said. "We spoke to the Illusive Man on Mars, sir. They did not seem to get along at all."

Udina's eyes narrowed in surprise. "You did? Fascinating."

Ashley shuddered as she recalled the Terrorist's strange robotic eyes.

"It may interest you to note that Shepard did not mention any negotiations in his Mars incident report."

"He… he didn't?" Why wouldn't he do that? Why not?

"I would like you to think of how much is going to revolve around Shepard. He certainly did an excellent job of putting himself in the center of this war. If he is with Cerberus…"

"I'm not sure he is, sir. There's plenty of room for doubt."

Udina nodded smoothly. "As there was when you were chasing Saren. And yet you criticize me for doubting the Reapers back then. At the time a far more preposterous preposition."

"The Skipper is not with Cerberus, sir."

"How very …optimistic… of you, Williams." Udina rose to his feet. "I am going to do some more digging of my own, and see what surfaces. He was out of Alliance space for three years doing God only knows what with God only knows whom. During two of those years, he failed to contact everyone and anyone he ever knew from his life beforehand. Including you. It looks to me like he wasn't a very devoted lover. One wonders what he _was_ devoted to."

Ashley licked her lips and stared angrily down at her sheets. Even now, with all that was going on, that fact still burned. Two years with no contact. Udina was right: where had the Skipper been? What had he been doing? Udina said, "I will do more research. If Shepard is to be the lynch pin of Reaper resistance, I need to know he can be trusted. Have a good day, Lieutenant-Commander."

* * *

**No contact for six months for fear of damaging his public image, and then Miranda just meets him randomly out in the open in the middle of a high-traffic docking bay? Their first encounter in Mass Effect 3 never felt right to me. It was too easy, and it paid no respect to the reality of their situation.**

**I also wanted to paint Udina as a little more sympathetic than he is. It makes weird sense to me that his cooperation with Cerberus in the third game is him overcompensating for his failure to support the war in the first game. Can you imagine the guilt one would feel after denying the existence of something like the Reapers and finding out you were wrong? How many lives that denial cost? I'd want to do everything I could to play an important role in putting things right, which may have been why he accepted the Illusive Man's offer.**


	13. Chapter 13

Perspective 13

Ashley spent a few more days in the recovery ward. About four days after Udina's first visit, the doctors enrolled her in physical therapy classes, attempting to restore her motor functions, which had been somewhat reduced by her injuries. At first it was just minor stretches, but she soon moved on to carefully supervised workout routines designed to increase endurance and flexibility. Her back and neck would twinge at odd moments, and the doctors were careful not to overstress her.

Every moment that she was not actively participating in some aspect of her own recovery, she was glued to the extranet Alliance news vids, hunting for news of Earth. Her mother and sisters had been on the planet when the Reapers attacked, and Ashley had lost plenty of sleep worrying about them. She had sent message after message, and drawn on every favor and contact she had left, trying to gain information, or safe passage for her family, or both. Everything so far had turned up dry.

The news itself did not bode well either. The hospital was getting more crowded every day, with the doctors more frantic and stressed than the last, and as Ashley watched the chaos unfolding the galaxy outside her serene little ward, she could see why. Due to the insistent demands of nearly every patient, a news terminal had been set up in Ashley's ward, and it had become a communal activity for the patients to gather around it at the same time after dinner every day to watch the destruction.

The Reaper opposition was pitiful. No matter the race, no matter the planet, stories were arriving everyday about entire columns being lost in seconds, cities were being taken week by week, usually with the highest civilian casualty rates in the history of galactic warfare. Occasionally they would air a heroic tale of escape, or a war hero's last stand. Perhaps a civilian would pick up a weapon on occasion and defend his or her home, but it was obvious to everyone that the war was being lost. There was no word on any Alliance networks about the Normandy. Not since the peace conference, and that had only been a vague recognition that a treaty was in the works.

"They don't cover Commander Shepard at all?" Ashley inquired, throwing the question to the group at large.

"He has been mentioned." A Drell acknowledged. Ashley vaguely recognized him. A fellow patient from her physical therapy sessions.

"The best coverage of Shepard isn't on Alliance news." A Turian woman informed them. "You'll have to get on the Extranet and watch Battlespace with Diana Allers. She's actually on the ship with him."

"Is that so?" the Drell asked. "Thank you for the information. I want to hear his stories."

"Why? He's a Terrorist and a Liar." Said a Batarian. The Alien was sitting in a wheelchair, both legs having been taken off of him by a Brute. "We can't trust him."

"I believe you are mistaken." the Drell said with self-assured confidence. He had a serene look as he watched the flickering images. "I have faith in him."

"He worked for Cerberus!" The Batarian argued angrily. "He blew up three hundred thousand of my people!"

"To stop the Reapers." The Drell replied, gesturing at the vids. "To prevent this from happening to all of us. Is it not possible that he could work with Cerberus without compromising his morals? Do you think it likely that every action Cerberus takes, and every goal they work towards is entirely evil? I strongly suspect its own members feel very differently, else it would be a far smaller faction."

"I doubt they'd care about _you_ very much." The patient replied. "You think they'd even let you into this hospital if they were running it? They'd let you choke and die."

"Perhaps." the Drell patient turned back to the news feed.

"Bah!" the Batarian waved a hand. "What do you know? Go back to worshipping your damn Enkindlers. What do you know about fighting and war and politics?"

"I am not Hanar. I do not worship-"

"I don't care." The Batarian patient said shortly, wheeling himself away from the news vids."

Curious, Ashley moved closer to the Drell. "I am sorry about that." A few other patients nodded in sympathy.

"No need to apologize. It is a great tragedy that so many minds are closed…"

"What's your name?"

"Tannor Nuara." The Drell reached out a green scaly hand and shook her own. He was friendly enough, if a little aloof.

"Why do have so much faith in Shepard?"

Tannor shrugged. "He has done many good things for many people, not all of whom deserved the second chance. Many deserved nothing but condemnation."

That _did _sound like the Skipper. "You know him personally, do you?" Ashley asked teasingly.

The Drell turned to her, blinking myopically. His expression was difficult to read. "Do you not, Ashley Williams?"

"Oh, Goddess!" exclaimed an Asari patient who had been listening in. She was staring at Ashley with an expression of awe that the Lieutenant-Commander found slightly unsettling. "You're Ashley Williams? You were on the Normandy when he was fighting Saren!"

"Wow… what's he like?" the Turian woman asked.

"I – I don't… Good… I guess." Ashley replied lamely. Seeing the stunned disappointment in her fellow patients' eyes, she pressed on. "He was… charismatic. He had a way of making you believe you would make it through everything. Everything would be alright."

"There was a rumor in Fornax that he was involved with an Alliance marine on that ship." The Asari pressed curiously.

"If he was, they certainly kept it under wraps." Ashley lied. "It was a small ship and I didn't hear about anything like that."

"Do you know where he was after the Normandy blew up?" the Turian pressed. "the vids said he died, but he's here now."

"Must have been some black-ops Spectre stuff." The Asari observed.

"Can we talk about something else, please?" Ashley requested, her voice a little more harsh than she had intended. Udina's last words had arisen yet again to torment her. _Looks to me like he wasn't a very devoted lover. One wonders what he was devoted to…_

"What exactly are the ingredients of a 'Deviled Egg'?" the Drell named Tannor asked, throwing all three other patients off-balance. He hesitated, seeing their confusion. "My apologies, but I tasted them in the hospital cafeteria two days ago, and they were rather good. It is a human delicacy, and as a human I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on the subject…"

Ashley opened and shut her mouth a couple times, her thoughts derailed, which –it occurred to her- was probably his exact intent. "I don't actually know, myself…" she admitted, "I usually eat my eggs over-easy."

* * *

She returned to her room several hours later, feeling quite relieved. The Drell's questions about food had lead into a much larger, and sometimes hilarious conversation about the diets of all four races, Asari, Turian, Drell, and Human. It felt amazing to be able to laugh again, and for the first time in weeks, Ashley's mind was at ease, which was the most pressing reason why the face of Donnell Udina was a most unwelcome sight.

He was waiting for her in her room, and had been seated there for the better part of half an hour, a tablet and a folder with several sheets of paper sitting on his lap.

"Williams." He greeted sternly.

Ashley reminded herself that this man was de-facto head of the Alliance. She drew herself to attention and saluted. "Sir."

"How is your recovery progressing?" He asked politely.

"Good, sir."

"Glad to hear it. Take a seat, Williams."

Ashley obeyed, eyeing the sheaf of papers apprehensively. Udina allowed her a few moments to get herself comfortable before he started speaking.

"Do you recall our last conversation?"

"Yes sir."

The man nodded, deep in thought. He seemed quite troubled, though he was hiding it beneath a veneer of calm solidity. "I did search." He admitted eventually. "And I am afraid… there is no way to put this gently. You may not like what I've found."

"Say it anyway, sir." Ashley took a deep breath, preparing herself for the worst.

"This is going to be personal, Williams. For both of us, and you will realize why in a few moments." Udina cleared his throat. "What I am about to tell you is beyond classified. A very private, very covert, very dirty war between the Alliance and Cerberus has been going on since long before you first wore the uniform. And long before I was a politician, I was a lawyer, working both high-profile and very highly classified cases for the Admiralty board. Twenty years ago, I was on the team prosecuting an admiral who had been accused of recruiting Alliance personnel to Cerberus. He was supplying them with intelligence, credits, and recruits. I spent three months interrogating him. He was going to switch sides, and give us intelligence in exchange for leniency."

"Where is he now, sir?"

"He died before he could give us any information." Udina opened his folder and reached inside. He pulled out a small piece of paper and handed it across to Ashley. "Murdered, we believe, by this young girl."

Ashley stared down at the picture. It was a mug shot of a young girl, looking barely older than sixteen. She was a stunningly beautiful young woman with strong cheekbones, flawless pale skin, and confidant blue/grey eyes. Her black hair was lush and full, and it hung luxuriantly about her defiant face. The name underneath was Elizabeth O'Neill.

"That young woman was held in captivity for three days on suspicion of murdering the Admiral. After that we had to either lay charges or let her go. It would have been Illegal to keep her there longer."

"What makes you think she murdered him?" Ashley asked, staring down at the mug shot. She felt a small amount of jealousy; if only she'd been that beautiful in her teen years. Life would have been so much better.

"She checked in as a visitor. A family member. She said she was his niece, and the Admiral identified her as such."

"_He_ ID'd _her_?" Ashley clarified.

Udina nodded grimly. "They visited, had a long, friendly conversation about family life, pop culture, and other banal subjects. That entire conversation was recorded, and kept in the open case file which an investigator and I reviewed constantly, looking for any type of hidden code. We found nothing. The young woman had a guard escorting her from place to place. He lost sight of her for all of twenty-two seconds, during seven minutes in which our cameras had gone black due to what was described as a programming error. They were visiting the kitchen on the way back from her uncle's cell. The guard found her by the baking oven, eating a chocolate and peanut butter cookie."

Ashley snorted. "Why would he even let her near the kitchens, sir."

"Apparently she was simply a very friendly, charming young woman. Excited, enthusiastic, and curious about everything."

"Enthusiastic? That sounds strange, sir. Wouldn't she be somber and worried about her uncle?"

"I agree completely." Udina affirmed. "When I interviewed the guard, he told me that she said she wanted to be a cook. He didn't know whether or not she had enrolled in any official classes, apparently she hadn't said. Yet when I looked up the name Elizabeth O'Neill, I found one hundred and four of them enrolled in various cooking classes across the galaxy, all of varying ages and levels. None of them fit her description."

"She may have been an amateur." Ashley suggested thoughtfully, wondering what on earth this story had to do with Shepard.

"Perhaps." Udina agreed. "Yet that evening, every prisoner in that facility died, including the Admiral. The soup had been poisoned with several different chemicals in doses far beyond adequately lethal levels."

"But she was in the baking section, right?"

"The tilting kettle station at which the soup was being prepared was across the aisle from where the guard found her." Udina said coldly. "Believe me, I studied every aspect of that Admiral's death. I knew where everyone was second by second. Every moment of her visit except for when that guard lost her. Williams, make no mistake when I say that the intelligence that admiral was going to give us would have allowed us to pick Cerberus apart piece by piece. As one of the most senior donors, he had access to some high-level operatives. Perhaps even to the Illusive Man himself."

"It all sounds suspicious, sir." Ashley said carefully. "But that's really only because it's all you've told me. I mean… how do you know it wasn't the cooks? There's nothing here that's beyond reasonable doubt. You can't prosecute her on that. It's all circumstantial evidence."

"I am well aware of that." Udina replied testily. "That is why she got away scott free. Cerberus has always been good at using our ideological beliefs and moral judgments against us."

"Where is she now? Did you try and keep tabs on her?"

"I did." Udina said. "As far as I could discover, she was living a completely regular life in Australia for about seven months afterwards. Official surveillance had to cease after six weeks, but this was a crisis and I bent the rules to keep it up a little longer than that. The case died, as did our investigations. On the first day on the eighth month, she vanished. Completely. All records deleted from our files, and the local school's files. The family she had been living with, the one which passed all of our background checks simply disappeared. Even house they were living in was gone, and I could not find its proper owner. All of our leads went cold. I have no doubt she killed that man. But I also cannot prove it."

Ashley nodded staring down at the picture, trying to imagine that beautiful face after twenty years of aging. "Where are you going with this, sir? Do you think she was working with Shepard?"

"I'm getting to that, Williams." Udina affirmed. "But let me tell this story first."

Ashley nodded, feeling sick with apprehension.

"For a long time I let that case lie. Six years passed, and I had just entered politics. I was at a party, networking when I encountered a serendipitous opportunity, and took this photograph with my Omnitool." He pulled out another sheet and handed it towards Ashley who took it wordlessly. The picture depicted a lavish party with aged men and women whose suits and dresses were only slightly less expensive than those of their private escorts.

Near the center of the photograph was the girl. Well… not a girl anymore. _Definitely _a woman. Ashley felt the green monster of envy erupt within her, clawing and snarling. Sensuous lips carrying a knowing, sexy smile. Sharp, intelligent blue eyes that made a thousand subtle promises. The woman's body was supple and toned, the perfect balance between soft and hard, strong and weak. Confidant and vulnerable. Her dress had a slit up one side, and a single perfect calf was peeking out teasingly, showing off an absurdly expensive brand of heel, and the thigh-high lace stocking beneath.

"I took this photograph myself." Udina said. "Covertly. She isn't actually in any of the 'official' pictures. Nor was she on any of the security footage. I managed to introduce myself. This time she was calling herself Laura Cotillard. The man standing beside her, the fat one?"

Ashley identified him quickly. The man was indeed obese, and he had an unpleasant sweaty sheen on his forehead.

"He was a high-level private contractor working in a security systems firm. Five weeks after this party, he was caught handing secrets to an information broker with strong ties to Cerberus. He too was killed, though by a male assassin. 'Laura Cotillard' vanished yet again. I informed the Admiralty board, gave them this photo, and they started this file. Shortly afterwards, a note appeared in it. We don't know who, when, or how, but someone managed to access the hard-copies of our top secret files, and did so just to deliver _this_. At least… we hope it was just to deliver this. Nothing else appeared to have been touched."

He handed Ashley another scrap of paper, this one a fine quality letter-head. A short note had been written on it in perfect handwriting script, every letter crisp and clear. It said: _Catch me, then. If you think you can._

Ashley's eyebrows rose and she fixed Udina with a look of disbelief. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I am aware of how this makes us look, Williams. She made us out to be bumbling fools. This woman. This… operative… is one of Cerberus' best. Possibly the best they have. She does not make mistakes, and do not judge her by her looks either. She is very intelligent, and has headed most of Cerberus's most profitable scientific and R&D cells. All the while running circles around our investigative teams for the better part of a decade. She is the Illusive Man's invisible hand. His silent attack hound. What he wills, she does. We'd hear third-hand accounts from unreliable witnesses… and obtain grainy unprofessional photographs none of which were ever solid enough to be confirmations. It was the best we could get."

"I'm amazed you kept so close to this…" Ashley said.

"Not my choice, I assure you. Every time a picture of her was taken, due to my own history with her, I was dragged back in to confirm it. I am the only Alliance official I know of who is confirmed to have actually met this woman, though I am forced to wonder how many among us are lying to protect either themselves or Cerberus interests. The Salarian STG has less on her than we do, and we do not even have enough here to convict her of anything if we caught her. A good lawyer could have her walk out of our courtrooms without so much as a ten-credit fine. I know that because I was a damned good lawyer myself."

"But there has to be footage of her. I mean… security cams are everywhere now, and the extranet…"

"…Is of near-infinite size." Udina finished curtly. "Where do you suggest we should have started, Williams? As for security cameras, Cerberus has operatives and contacts in the R&D departments of almost every security firm in the galaxy. Not just human, but Turian, Asari, and Salarian as well. They know how the technology works. They have viruses that wipe entire surveillance systems clean as their agents pass by."

"That's…"

"Frightening. I know." Udina said, his tone deadly serious.

Ashley stared at the pictures spread out in front of her. Udina had been adding more as he spoke. Most were grainy, and carried only a hint, a suggestion of the suave femme fatale in the party photograph. Mostly they were of dark hair and a black and white catsuit which did not leave much to the imagination, though when added to Udina's additional intelligence about this woman's manipulative capabilities, it did succeed in making Ashley more and more uncomfortable with thoughts of the Operative being anywhere near Shepard.

Ashley shook her head. "This is all tied back to the Skipper… was he working with her?"

"I was getting to that. As I said, I've been digging into Shepard's history with Cerberus, trying to find out where he has been and what he has been doing…"

"_And?_"

"I did some digging about Shepard through what's left of humanity's intelligence databases and came up dry. The other races were similar except for the Batarians…" He pulled out a photo of a handsome, excessively well-muscled young man. He handed it to her for closer examination.

"This man was a Corsair for the Alliance. He left us quite a number of years ago to join Cerberus. As a part of Cerberus, he then prevented a Batarian assassination attempt on the Citadel Council. His name is Jacob Taylor. He has been positively ID'd by a prisoner named Rolston as having served on the Normandy SR-2 during Shepard's time with Cerberus. That gave me a starting point. Rolston failed to ID the woman herself. Personally, I think he recognized her, but is protecting her out of some misplaced sense of loyalty."

Ashley stared down at the picture. The man looked barely older than she was. He had dark skin and friendly brown eyes. He did not look anything like the terrible husks she had seen on Mars.

Udina continued as soon as he was sure he had her full attention. "I began searching for recent places he had visited. Many ports have automatic registries, and Mister Taylor is relatively careless as Cerberus Operatives go. Trips to the Citadel and various locations could and have ID'd him. I found a match in the records of the private security firm hired to protect Dantius Towers on Illium." Another photo was handed across to her. It was a grainy still of the young operative following Shepard and Garrus down a long hallway, all three of them had their weapons shouldered.

Garrus had been with him? That fact caused Ashley's doubts about Udina's claims to surface. Shepard and Garrus… the two men had become fast friends while fighting Saren, and they were nigh inseparable. Garrus would follow Shepard, but he would also know the difference between the Commander, and a copy, or a brain-washed husk. Something did not add up.

"I do not know why they were in the tower, however Nassana Dantius was found dead the following morning. Shot through the heart." The councilor continued. "Once I confirmed that Garrus Vakarian was with Shepard, my job became far easier. A living person, especially one living under an established government as… invasive as the Turian hierarchy is, is far easier to track. I ran across this picture. It is taken from the internal helmet cam of a private Mercenary on Omega. Probably just a few seconds before his death."

Ashley examined the picture. There was Garrus with his sniper rifle shouldered, firing somewhere past the camera. Shepard was in cover a few feet closer, laying down suppressive fire off to his right side. There was a third figure with them, her Carnifex pistol pointed straight at the camera. Ashley took in the Cerberus operative's white and black uniform, with that despicable logo on the chest. She noticed how well it fitted the woman's perfectly toned, curvaceous body. Intelligent sharp blue eyes, sensuous lips curved into a derisive snarl…

Ashley felt a much stronger pang of jealousy and worry. How deep had Shepard been into Cerberus. To be working with one of their top operatives… had he been coerced? What had they offered him? What had _she_ offered him? Not sex; Shepard was smarter than that. Higher functioning than that. But what could possibly have made him side with such a cold monster?

Ashley pressed her fingertips to her forehead helplessly, staring down at the photo. "…Skipper… what have you done…?"

Udina reached back into the nearly empty folder and pulled out one last piece of paper, holding it close to his chest as he spoke gently to her. "There is one more photo I must show you, Williams. But I want to warn you, you will be hurt."

"Just do it." Ashley gritted her teeth grimly. She knew what to expect; something similar to the party image. A room full of Cerberus personnel laughing and drinking. John would be there. Garrus too, perhaps. Both being duped by the good cheer, put at ease by the smiles and ample liquor. The woman would be there as well, taking advantage of him. Converting him. Slowly worming her way into his mind and planting treasonous thoughts. Rotting his loyalty as she had done to so many other good Alliance soldiers. Corrupting him.

But it hadn't occurred to Ashley that Shepard would be unfaithful to her. After all they had shared… after their special night before Ilos and all the quiet, loving moments in the weeks that followed… Despite the woman's striking beauty, it hadn't occurred to Ashley that the fleeting moment captured so perfectly on camera would be so very intimate.

The Cerberus Operative was up against a long serene fishtank, head tilted back against the glass. Her breath was hot and heavy, eyes half-shut and mouth slightly open. Those sensuous lips were twisted into a delicate gasp of utter pleasure. Shepard –the Skipper… he was holding her there, pinning her to the wall with his superior height. His knee was between her legs, keeping them apart and rubbing far too close to her apex. One of his arms was high, pinning hers above her head. His other was at the small of her back, pulling them together to join at the hips, both of them caught in a moment of instinctive unbridled lust.

Ashley threw the picture away immediately. She shut her eyes, trying to wipe the image away. Trying desperately to unsee it. Her breath became short and a gaping hole was ripped open inside her soul. She could practically feel all of her warmth and love draining away to be replaced with the bitter anguish and hurt of betrayal.

"This was taken –without his knowledge- from the combat visor of Garrus Vakarian." Udina said. "Apparently the image was captured less than a day after the Normandy SR-2's successful suicide mission against the Collectors. It is part of a longer video. But I don't believe I need to show you the rest to make my case. Garrus Vakarian is told by none other than Jeff Moreau to find Shepard and get some orders. He proceeds through the ship up to Shepard's cabin… the door opens and I'm sure you can guess the rest."

"The skipper wouldn't do this… he… he just wouldn't!" Ashley murmured breathlessly. "He's not… he knows Cerberus. He saw Kahoku. He knows what they do… he wouldn't… she couldn't have…" In her mind, she was replaying their night before Ilos. The love had been slow and gentle, With each giving and taking as they needed. Yet there had always been a slight distance there. How often had the Cerberus Operative and he kissed like that? How often had they pleased one another? Was the woman better at it than Ashley? Probably. How could she not be? The Skipper had never shown Ashley _this _kind of passion. He had never gazed into her eyes with the same burning intensity displayed for this woman. A combination of wanton lust and a far deeper emotional connection. A frantic longing and need to be near her. He had never looked that way towards Ashley…

He had never…

Hadn't she been good enough? Hadn't she been strong enough? Loyal… enough… oh God, Horizon… their fight had driven him away. Driven him to this woman. To Cerberus. Guilt and anger flooded Ashley's already overtaxed mind as she realized that she herself had lead him straight to Cerberus…

A sudden cold gripped her. Had he been with them beforehand? It had been two years after all. How could he have been with this woman, knowing Ashley thought he was dead and gone? Knowing how much Ashley had suffered? How much she had mourned? Where was the strong, sympathetic man who had spent so many hours speaking with her in the cargo bay? Where had he gone? Or had it always been an act?

"Williams, look at me." Udina said, his tone surprisingly gently. Sensing her distress, he reached out and took her hand, clasping it gently. His expression was mournful as he said, "There are many admirable things about John Shepard. His tenacity and determination, his good will and ability to show the galaxy humanity's best traits… but –and this is a point I always felt was relevant from the start, even while you were chasing Saren with him. It is what everyone else including you refused to acknowledge: He is only human. And as painful as this is, even if he started by pointing his pistol at her face, that woman would certainly be able to give him pause long enough for her to start talking. And Ashley, she is a very accomplished orator. This woman has convinced politicians and businessmen who knew the laws and the consequences far better than he, to turn to Cerberus. She excels at it."

"She's sleeping with them to get them to change sides…" Ashley murmured, trying desperately to collect herself. A thousand wild insults and half-crazed excuses were scalding their way across her mind at incredible speeds, preventing her from thinking coherently. "She must be!"

"No." Udina shook his head. "She has convinced many good women as well. I am forced to respect her as an opponent, and I am speaking completely honestly when I say that I don't believe she would need to use sex. Her offer is seductive enough by itself. The idea of having power is …powerful. And that is always what Cerberus promises. Not sex, but power. That intimacy may be a bonus, or perhaps she and the Illusive Man want him that much more invested… but I will leave any questions about his loyalty in your more than capable hands, Lieutenant. Good day."

He collected his photos and left, leaving the final picture lying on the floor where Ashley had frantically tossed it. Before the door shut, he paused and stepped back inside.

"Williams." He said. "I do have her name at least. Miranda Lawson."

Ashley stared hollowly out the window, feeling her universe crumbling.

Miranda Lawson… the Cerberus Hound. If even the indomitable, the incorruptible John Shepard could fall to Cerberus… was there any hope at all?

* * *

**I didn't want this chapter to be just "Oh my god a Cerberus Slut is sleeping with Shepard!" which I've seen around. I wanted Ashley's issues to be running far deeper than that. Her fear of Miranda should be the tip of the iceberg, and the real issues being just how easily, and how far, Cerberus has been able to work itself into the Alliance's systems, and manipulate Alliance personnel. So far that they managed to dig in and convert someone Ash thought was untouchable and beyond corruption.**

**I don't know how much of Udina's story he's making up, and how much of it is true. Personally I decided to write it as if it was all true, but the extra personal connection may be a little too convenient. Or it may actually be adding more to the story. Let me know what you guys think.**


	14. Chapter 14

Perspective 14

Ashley paused her video. She lay in her hospital bed, holding the datapad in her hands, and staring blankly at the frozen image the same way she had done so many times in Vancouver before the attack. It was one of the interrogation interviews. Commander Shepard, as unkempt as she had ever seen him, was glaring past the camera, his look full of impatience and distain for the Alliance therapist and the very organization the man worked for.

The picture Udina had given her was stowed away in the top drawer of her bedside cabinet. She couldn't bear to look at it, the evidence of his betrayal. How could he have just turned like that? Udina had said that the Lawson woman was a good speaker, but so was Shepard! Ashley had seen it person time and time again, convincing people to do what he wanted, usually saving their lives and dignity in the process. Surely he would be able to recognize when someone was plying him with those same persuasive powers. He wouldn't just roll over that easily. He wouldn't get that twisted up. Not Shepard. Not the Skipper. The explanation which made the most sense to Ashley was that from the start, he had never been the Skipper. He had used them all. He had always been a Cerberus lackey, playing the entire Alliance command like a pack of fools. Even playing Ashley herself…

Despite the fact that it accounted for the most variables, she despised that thought. Many little details never quite added up. Shepard's pursuit of Cerberus on behalf of Admiral Kahoku was still an enigma. Why would he hurt his own organization? Though come to think of it, breaking those cells wide open apparently hadn't done much real damage at all, had it? Cerberus had come out of it none the worse for wear? Had that merely been a red herring? Was it merrely something to throw her, and the rest of the Alliance off the scent?

Whenever she considered this option, sooner or later all of her concerns always ended up riding second seat to one burning question: How could she, Ashley Williams, have fallen for a Cerberus agent? Ashley had always thought she would be able to recognize the traitors. That she would be smarter than them. Her father had always said that her 'Bullshit Sniffer' as he called it, would be the pride of the Marine Corps. She had always seen herself as the one who could call others out. How had Shepard passed so neatly under her radar? And why? What purpose was there to be served by seducing her? By hurting her like this?

The only explanation for that was that it was a part of some sadistic, self-indulgent symbolic gesture at the entire Alliance, much like the teasing note in Miranda Lawson's file. Dupe the Alliance, fuck the Alliance by doing both to their most steadfast supporter on his ship. How many hours had Shepard spent with Lawson, laughing at Ashley's stupidity? Laughing at the entire Alliance? They had handed their best ship, all of their praise, and all of their resources to a damned Cerberus agent! He had taken it all, even Ashley, used it and her, and dropped it all by the wayside when he was done. Had it been a Cerberus ship which had blown up the Normandy? Had Shepard planned the whole thing as part of some elaborate scheme to extract himself from his deep cover persona? Had he simply gotten tired of Ashley, and wanted to escape and run back to the arms of Miranda Lawson? How long had they been lov – close?

Ashley heard her door open, and looked up, expecting to see Udina's sullen visage. Her heart froze. Shepard was standing in the doorway, examining her with a look of genuine concern. He was clean-shaven once again, his hair trimmed in a short and neat fashion. Instead of an Alliance uniform, he was wearing a rather smart leather jacket with the N7 logo on the breast, and his signature red stripes down the sleeves. A pair of well-fitted jeans and nicely-shined dress shoes completed the image of a man on shore leave, looking to relax.

"Hey Ashley…" he said carefully.

She didn't answer. She was too busy biting back the hundred or so accusations which were fighting to find a way out. She was still having trouble fitting the man standing before her with the Cerberus agent image which Udina had carefully and effectively illustrated.

Despite her rather cold reaction, he moved further into the room, grabbing a chair by the door as he went.

"How are you doing?" he asked, crossing the smooth hospital floor and taking a seat beside her cot.

She shrugged, still searching his face for some semblance of the Skipper. "Alright, I guess."

Ashley had to admit, it looked as though he had made a serious effort to clean himself up a little. Though he wasn't entirely the same man, he certainly looked much closer. She could barely make out echoes of the orange network of scars. His eyes were back to their natural blue. The same color which had drawn her in from the start. The hair was different, and there were more lines on his face, but aside from those details...

She could detect an undercurrent of frustration and exhaustion in his tone, though that could have easily have been attributed to the war. One striking change, now that she saw him without a beard, was the change in his scars. Not the orange evidence of his supposed resurrection, if that was actually what happened, but his own scars. He had acquired a few from his heroics on Elysium; one across his chin, and another rather rough burn on his left cheek. Both had vanished, to be replaced by a pale thin scar on his right cheek, and a small cut across his eyebrow. It was yet another reminder of Cerberus' tampering.

"Alright…" Shepard rubbed his forehead, sensing her hesitancy. "Look, I know that on Mars I wasn't exactly… friendly. I wasn't cooperative. I wasn't acting like myself."

"Really?" she said sarcastically, unable to resist.

The man sighed. "I was frustrated and stressed out, Ash. I spent so much time trying to prevent this war from happening. I was rude to you. I know that, and I'm sorry. I said I'd explain everything when I had time. We had to head back to the citadel to get resupplied anyway… I figured that if you were up for it, now's as good a time to talk as we're going to get for a little while."

"I wasn't sure you wanted to. You were pretty clear on Mars about where things stood."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you're clearly not a fan of the Alliance anymore! Why are you working with us?"

"This again?" the man asked impatiently. "Ash…"

"Don't." she muttered, flinching. "Don't call me that. Why do you care, Shepard? Why are you here?"

"Because I don't want to leave things between us in such a bad state." Shepard said. "I acted wrongly and I wanted to apologize. You know? Mend fences and all that. I have enough enemies as it is."

Ashley studied him carefully. "And you're not with Cerberus anymore either."

"It's the truth." He said earnestly.

Ashley tried to keep her face blank, but inside her head, all she could see was that damned picture and the fire in his eyes which didn't burn for her. She said, "Did you really cut all ties?"

"Yes." His face was blank, innocent.

_LIAR!_ She wanted to shout it. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to pick up her pillow or the nearest blunt object and hit him with it until he confessed. But she didn't. She wasn't sure what would happen if she called him out. Between his Spectre status, and his political clout, he could easily end her life and walk out of that room without anyone saying a damned thing. She had to help Udina get to the truth. Expose him to the galaxy as a traitor, or whatever he actually was. That was a better victory, and a smarter way to play the game. It was better for the Alliance.

Ashley wasn't sure whether he sensed that she didn't believe him, or whether his own guilt was coming into play, but his face darkened, and he made the choice to elaborate. "And no. Not completely. A lot's happened, Ash."

"What happened, exactly?" she asked.

He winced. "I…can't give you any details. It'll only make things more complicated."

_I'll bet you can't._

"I want to be clear, though: We can't be the way we were before, but I'd like to work this out."

"I'm surprised."

"Why?"

"Thought you'd moved on." She said, staring straight ahead at the wall. _God damn it!_ She wasn't built for this! All the lying and trying to tiptoe around… she was a soldier, and this wasn't worth the anguish it was causing her. She said, "Miranda Lawson? Ring a bell?"

Shepard turned white. He sat back in his seat, dumbstruck. She felt delicious satisfaction, and couldn't help but show a triumphant smirk. The man looked terrified. He seemed to be having a little trouble finding his voice.

"Where…where did you hear that name?"

"Don't worry, Skipper. Everyone knows about you and you're new girlfriend. I guess dating an Alliance marine wasn't quite exciting enough, hmm? Moved onto a Cerberus Operative?"

Shepard rose to his feet, growing hard and cold as ice. "You walked away on Horizon. Not me. You made it crystal clear you were done with me! You don't get to be bitter about the fact that I moved on. Now, where did you hear that name?"

Ashley crossed her arms defiantly.

"This is important, Ash. I know to you, telling me you know her name is all some complicated way to get back at me, but it could mean her life! You can't possibly be _that_ petty!"

"She's a Cerberus agent, Skipper. Should I care about her life?"

"I care about her. Surely to god, I've built up enough goodwill when we were hunting Saren that you can at least not get her killed…" He read her cold glare correctly, and responded with a look of impatience. "…except that suddenly I'm a Cerberus agent too, aren't I…?"

They stared at eachother.

"I have other means to find out, Ash. I know a rather good information broker. I came here to try and build up some trust between us."

"Maybe you shouldn't have lost it in the first place. Maybe you shouldn't have joined Cerberus."

"I worked _with_ them. 'With', Ash. Not 'For'! Do you understand the distinction?"

"Don't talk to me like I'm some kid!" she shouted.

"Then grow up!" he shouted back. "You're being childish and it's going ot get her killed! I can't have that. I love her, Ash." That hurt, and the bastard knew it, but he kept talking anyway. "And if it means her life, if it's her or you, then I already..." He died off into silence, but he didn't need to finish his statement.

"Her or me? That easy, huh?" she said acidly, anger and bitterness overwhelmed her.

"As easy as it was on Virmire."

_That_ hurt even more. "Fuck you!"

"I don't want it to come to that. I'd much rather you got killed by the enemy, to be honest. Fighting to save lives and do the right thing. That's what you deserve."

"I deserve to die?"

"You deserve to be a soldier!" he replied evenly. "Doing exactly what you signed on to do. All this intelligence/counter-intelligence stuff, spy stuff? That isn't you, Ash. And it wasn't me either. Our enemies are on the battlefield, where we can see them clear as day, and we need all the help we can get. We need you. I don't, but _we_ do."

"That's what Lawson's into." Ashley said. "Spy stuff. Up to her fucking neck."

"Further than that." He admitted. "Way over her head, but she taught me a lot."

"I'll bet she did."

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What would it take, Ashley? The Normandy could use you. The front line needs all the best our galaxy has, and that includes you. If we're going to work together, we need to trust eachother. Even if we aren't together any more, what would it take to close this gap?"

"Turn her in."

"No!"

"Well then I'm sorry, skipper. But I can't trust you."

"I can't trust the Alliance, Ash. The Illusive Man has agents with them. He'd kill her off the moment she stepped into a holding cell. If she gets caught by anyone, she's dead. I can't… I can't do that. She's safer on her own, where she's in control of her own security. She was one of them for years, and she knows how they operate. She can evade them."

"Where is she now?"

"I don't know, and even if I did…"

"You don't trust me any more than I trust you." She said bitterly. "Guess this is going to be an uphill battle, hmm? is it really worth fighting, skipper?"

They fell into a long, uncomfortable silence. At last, Shepard rose to his feet. His voice was hollow and deadened. "I can see this was a waste of time. I wish the best for you, Lieutenant Williams. Despite what you must think…" Without meeting her eyes, he turned away from her and headed towards the door.

"Shepard." She said, regretting the argument in a moment of weakness.

He turned back, looking more worn-down and weathered than he did when he had walked in. His tired blue eyes met hers with an alarming indifference.

"How's the fight going?" she asked.

"Mission details are classified, Williams." He said, still talking in that monotone. "That's an Alliance rule."

"But…?" she prompted.

"But what? It's the Reapers, Ash. Take a guess."

* * *

_"__Commander, what can I do for you?"_

_The standard opening line. Miranda always said that, maintained the professional front. It had taken a little while for him to realize that while onboard the ship, she let him signal when he was visiting for non-official reasons. She hadn't yet come up to the loft, and he suspected that she was worried about their surreptitious rendezvous' being discovered by the other crew members. Garrus and Mordin already knew. Samara did as well, somehow. The Justicar had never said a word on the subject, but John could tell by the gentle merriment she had held in her gaze when she had observed him looking rather unkempt, trying to sneak out of Miranda's office._

_"__Actually I was looking for a status report." He said as her door slid shut behind him. He could feel the weight of her present burning a hole in his side pocket." And I was wondering if the engineering reports had been handed in yet." That much was absolutely true. Tali had mentioned a few discrepancies during one of his rounds, and he trusted Miranda to know whether it was worth worrying about. He was fairly sure that she had a hand in designing the Normandy's engines, anyway. He trusted Tali as well, but also knew that if the Quarian hadn't thought it important, she would not have told him to begin with. He both wanted, and appreciated the second opinion. Miranda 's contributions were often quite insightful, offering explanations and solutions outside the thought processes of the engineering department._

_Miranda sat back in her chair, her tone clipped and neat. "The engines are operating at optimal functionality. The discrepancy was an isolated event caused by a tech burst in Mordin's lab. He blew a breaker trying to upgrade Garrus' Omni-tool, and the electromagnetic wave was powerful enough to throw off one of the gravimetric plates. It has already been recalibrated and I'll have Mister Donnelly and Sergeant Gardner put up extra shielding between Mordin's lab and the drive core."_

_Shepard nodded, standing quite still as he built up a small amount of courage._

_Bemused, she asked, "Was there something else, Commander?"_

_"__Yeah." He reached carefully into his pocket and pulled out The Present. It was a flattened oblong object, brushed steel. It was around eight inches across with a seam running up the center. Miranda frowned, watching it cautiously as he reached over her computer screen and set it down on her desk._

_"__What is it?" She asked._

_"__Open it!" he prompted, trying to minimize his own excitement._

_She raised a skeptical eyebrow, but obeyed, pulling it apart at the seam. The two halves slid apart to reveal the full-length holographic piano keyboard interface. Her jaw dropped, and Shepard took a fair mount of pleasure in the fact. It wasn't often that Miranda Lawson looked stunned beyond her wits._

_"__I remember you telling me you used to take Piano lessons. And you talked about how much you enjoyed playing it." he said as she stared down at the orange and blue keys. "I figured if you wanted to take it up again…"_

_She still hadn't said a word, but she raised her left hand and gave one of the flat keys an experimental tap. A C-note rang throughout her cabin, sounding clear as a bell, at least until she rushed to find the volume control._

_"__If it's not a good gift, I can always return it." he added quickly, trying to put her at ease._

_"__No!" she said, equally as quickly. She was still watching the keyboard with a blank expression on her face. "No. I just… I…I don't know what to do." She admitted quietly._

_Despite himself, John couldn't help but grin. He held a theatrical hand to his ear. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that? For posterity, I mean?"_

_"__Ass."_

_His grin widened. "Hang on. I think my Omni-tool can record-"_

_"__Shepard, please!" she beseeched. He relented, understanding how momentous a thing it was that she was willing to admit what he knew she saw as a horrible failing; the fact that she for once was at a loss._

_"__I don't know whether or not I want to play it." she said, laying her hands across the holographic surface. Her fingertips seemed to gravitate to all the proper keys, as if the memories were returning with the feather-light touch. "There are a lot of bad memories attached to both that instrument, and the lessons."_

_"__I don't doubt it. Maybe this'll help you replace them with some better ones." He suggested._

_"__I hope so. The other problem is… you."_

_"__Me?" he said, suddenly worried_

_"__Don't be offended or anything. I never really got gifts. Well… nothing without strings attached at any rate. I don't quite know how to… handle it."_

_John suppressed a laugh. "Well… what do you think all the non-perfect people do?"_

_"__They say thank you." She told him, almost immediately. Her tone was one of almost comedic dead seriousness._

_"__So why don't you start there?" once again, that grin tried to force its way through. "Though it had better be a perfect 'thank you'."_

_Miranda raised an eyebrow and met his gaze. Her slender, perfect fingers slid off the keyboard as she rose to her feet. She stepped daintily around the edge of the desk and slid her arms around his shoulders. Moments later those same perfect fingers were running through his short, trimmed hair as she pulled him into a passionate kiss. His hands slid around her waist, the tip of his fingers passing across the top of her shapely behind. She broke away and laid her head on his shoulder as they pulled each other closer into a tight embrace. _

_"__Good enough?" she whispered._

_"__Awful. It wasn't nearly long enough." Shepard answered. He immediately felt a stinging pain as she flicked his ear, though they both laughed. He gave her a gentle squeeze, relishing the taste of her mouth. She had been at Gardner's fruit salad again. Over her shoulder, he searched her desk for the bowl which was poorly hidden behind a small pile of data pads._

_Shepard said, "My parents tried to get me to play the guitar when I was a kid. Never had the gumption to practice, but still."_

_"__Well I'll practice this." She promised._

_"__Can I listen?"_

_She snorted. "What is the bloody point of that? Wait until I have a piece properly prepared for you."_

_"__Maybe I just want to hear you play."_

_"__And if I sound horrible because I haven't played it in years?"_

_"__That's not the important part, Miranda."_

_"__I know." She let go of him and drew away, collecting herself and straightening her uniform. "Alright. Sit down and listen then, if you must."_

_She took a seat back at her desk and examined the holographic keyboard, turning down the volume so that no sound would escape her office. Then she laid her fingers across the keys, brow furrowed in concentration. She stayed fixed like that for about twenty seconds, then she looked back up at him._

_"__It's been nearly twenty years…"_

_"__Just play, Miranda."_

_She chose a simplified version of Beethoven's moonlight sonata, and didn't miss a beat._

* * *

_**It's been a little while since we had some Shep/Miri. Thought I'd throw in another flashback.**_

_**I hope the dialogue between Shepard and Ashley played out as realistically as you were expecting it to.**_

_**To be honest, I started this story intending it to be a high-quality Ash bash, but somewhere along the way, it turned into a redemption fic instead. This is probably not news to any of the Ashley fans out there, but Miri fan's usually don't have any more respect for Ashley Williams than Tali fans have for Miranda Lawson.**_

_**I'm hoping this story will help justify a lot of her erratic behavior in-game, and add an extra dimension to her character. **_

_**Btw, I don't recommend stories very often, but there's one out there called "What the Future Brings" by a user named .bcg. I believe it is the best post-war Shep/Miri fic out there. Not a lot of heavy action, its true. However it contains some of the best characterization for our fandom not only for Miranda, but for Shepard as well. Really high-quality stuff, and it's updated reliably once every week or two. Go take a look if you haven't yet. Believe me, you won't regret it.**_


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